


Unbreakable Flight

by thx4thevenombby



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Blow Jobs, Cancer, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Komahina - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Neighbor!Nagito, Road Trips, TW: Mentions of Self Harm, TW: Suicide, Teacher AU, Teacher!Hajime, komaeda's a masochist, komeada still has luck for some reason don't ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 79,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thx4thevenombby/pseuds/thx4thevenombby
Summary: Hajime begins seeking excitement desperately, to avoid facing the boring reality of his life, and he finds the perfect antidote: Nagito Komaeda. His new neighbor seems eccentric, but well-meaning nonetheless and the two hit it off pretty well. At least, until Nagito's antics grow stranger and stranger and he begins pulling Hajime into his chaotic little world piece by piece. What was supposed to just be a friendly respite from his daily life turns into a wild ride that Hajime's fairly sure he couldn't make up even if he wanted to. It's not like he's in love with Nagito or anything. Definitely not. They're just neighbors, after all... Aren't they?





	1. What's Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SDR2 fic, so I hope that the characters are alright! There will be more chapters posted on this, but I am going on vacation, so I wanted to get this one posted. I really hope you enjoy and thank you for clicking!

                Hajime Hinata’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles had turned an unhealthy shade of white. _Ten more minutes ‘till you’re home. Just ten minutes_. Hajime thought to himself, still simmering over his day at work. He loved being a teacher, he really did, but for every kid who made the day worthwhile and rewarding, there would be one who made him want to quit. _Boring? Why’d they call me boring? I’m one of the most entertaining teachers at the school! Why didn’t they call Souda boring?_ Hajime’s thoughts were clouded with a frustration that he used to hide how much the insult had really affected him. But as he waited for the traffic to clear from the school lot, he was slowly sinking into the horrible thought that _the kid might’ve been right_.

                Hajime lived in a normal house, in a small, but well-off neighborhood. His teacher salary had only allowed his life there because it bordered what used to be a funeral parlor and mortician’s house. But that didn’t bother him. He wasn’t superstitious and the place hadn’t been used in years. He wore different variations of similar suits every day. He had the same orange juice and toast breakfast every morning. And he taught the same English curriculum every year. The kids couldn’t blame _him_ for being boring. If they had to read  One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest every single fucking year, they’d get bored with the lectures, too. He was unmarried and lived alone, save for his dog, Scruffy. Who even had a boring name. The dog had been a gift from the school’s eccentric biology teacher, Mr. Tanaka. _At least the kids don’t say_ he’s _boring_.

                _No. Screw it! I’m gonna change things up, today!_ Hajime pounded the steering wheel triumphantly and pulled out towards his favorite coffee shop, instead of home, like he usually would. He’d break the schedule up a little bit. Treat himself to some coffee and donuts. _Yeah. I deserve it!_ He pulled into the coffee shop and waited in line, before ordering his coffee and treats. As he waited, a man walked in behind him, making the door chime jingle loudly. His hair was wild and his skin pale, but he had a calm, serene face, like someone on a beach vacation. Something about him continuously drew Hajime’s gaze. As the other man was rung up, the cashier gasped.

                “Oh! You’re our thousandth customer of the year! You win a free box of donuts!” The cashier fumbled behind the counter and filled a box with donuts, while the man watch, seeming unsurprised.

                “How lucky! Thank you!” He smiled warmly and left with his donuts. Hajime watched him leave, before he grabbed his own food and left after a few minutes. He finished the drive home, humming happily and pulling into his driveway. He blinked and froze when he finally reached his garage. There was a car parked outside the mortician’s house. He shook his head and walked back, inside.

                Scruffy was waiting excitedly for him and Hajime let him out, briefly. He was walking the dog back inside when someone left the mortician’s house and walked back to the car, pulling a box of donuts out of it. _It’s the coffee shop guy?!_ Hajime frowned. _Didn’t someone tell him the house was used as a funeral parlor?_ The man looked up at noticed Hajime, waving with a friendly expression. Hajime let Scruffy back in and then walked over. “Hello.” He greeted the man and did his best to smile.

                “Ah, hello!”

                “Are you moving in?” Hajime asked, tilting his head up at the house behind them. The man nodded brightly.

                “Mhmm. It was my grandfather’s. I moved in last night.” He explained, closing his car door. Hajime had been at a staff meeting until late last night and he must not have noticed when he’d come home. “Well, anyway, I can’t eat all of these, so if you’d like to come in and help, feel free.” He offered with a quick smile. Hajime shrugged.

                “Yeah, alright.” He didn’t know the neighbors very well, so it would be good to have one that he did. Or at least, start out on the right foot. He followed the man inside and realized that the decorating was still probably nearly identical to what it had been thirty or forty years ago when it was still being used. Hajime hoped that this new guy would at least change the garish, floral wallpaper.

                “Oh, I’m Nagito Komaeda, by the way.”

                “Hajime Hinata.” Hajime watched him pull two floral plates from the cupboards and rinse the dust off of them. “So what do you do?” Hajime asked, taking a seat. Nagito laughed awkwardly.

                “I’m a mortician. Little morbid, I know.” Nagito seemed almost apologetic, but Hajime wasn’t sure why. Until a terrible thought crept into his mind.

                “Are... are you going to reopen the funeral parlor?” Hajime waited with bated breath, hoping the answer was no. Nagito just laughed again as a response. He handed a plate to Hajime. They talked for a little while, keeping comfortable, light conversation. Hajime was surprised with how easy to talk to Nagito was. He was a bit of an oddball, but Hajime had heard that most morticians were. Eventually, he excused himself to walk Scruffy and said a quick goodbye. He left his number with Nagito, in case he needed to know something about the area.

                “Hajime, you’re so kind, thank you!” Nagito smiled, happily. Hajime just smiled back, blankly. _Is he being sarcastic?_

                “N-no problem. See you around.” He responded and left. He walked Scruffy and made himself some dinner. He ate to the sound of the TV and then fell into an easy sleep. He was so used to every night being spent fretting over his students or work and he wondered if it had been the donuts that were making him feel better. Maybe it was Nagito? He seemed like a calming sort of guy.

* * *

 

                Hajime got up the next morning and got ready for work. He saw Nagito gardening and waved to him. He drove to the school and went through the usual spiel about motifs in To Kill a Mockingbird. He came home, surprised to see that Nagito’s lawn was already landscaped with new flowers everywhere. _He must’ve worked all day_. Hajime thought to himself. He walked the dog, made dinner, showered, and then slept. Rinse and repeat for almost a month. The only difference in his routine were his daily morning waves to Nagito that sometimes turned into small conversations. His life had gone back to being “boring” but he wasn’t sure how much he minded. _Kids just like excitement too much_. Hajime thought to himself.

                Until excitement decided to creep back into his life. He’d just finished walking Scruffy and been flipping through the channels for a show to watch over dinner when his phone rang loudly into the quiet house. Scruffy barked. “Hello?” Hajime answered it, not fully committed. It was probably just a student’s parent, upset about their failing grade or something. But still... nine pm? Really?

                Whoever was on the other line was breathing heavily and Hajime considered hanging up. It was probably just a prank call. “H-Hajime? It’s, it’s Nagito, your n-neighbor.” Nagito was panting and out of breath.

                “Nagito? What’s wrong?” Hajime set down the remote and frowned.

                “A-ah, it’s really embarrassing, I-I, ah, fell and I’m having some trouble b-breathing.” Nagito laughed, which made Hajime shiver. Why was he joking around? He bounded to his front door before running to Nagito’s house.

                “Okay, just, don’t talk. I’ll be right over, just sit tight.” Hajime did his best to sound calm and he tried Nagito’s door, surprised to find it unlocked. He saw Nagito collapsed on the floor by the stairs, clutching his chest. Hajime hung up the phone and knelt down by him, checking his body for injuries. “Why didn’t you call 911?!” He asked, while Nagito breathed loudly, obviously out of it.

                “I-I don’t need an... ambulance, th-there’s probably someone w-who needs it more.” He shook his head and Hajime gritted his teeth to hide his frustration. He looked around, but didn’t know what else to do, so he picked Nagito up and ran to his car, unlocking it. Nagito was surprisingly light and felt almost frail in Hajime’s arms. “A-ah, sorry, I can... walk.” Nagito tried to stand up on his own, but Hajime stopped him. He drove to the hospital and helped Nagito through the door.

                “Oh, Nagito!” The girl at the front desk waved. Nagito waved back, despite his pain. _Why does the hospital staff know him?_ Hajime wondered for a moment.

                “He needs a doctor, he can’t breathe-“

                “I-I’m sorry to interrupt!” The nurse squeaked, waving her hands apologetically. “But don’t worry! We know all about his condition! He’s safe here.” She helped Nagito to a room, where a doctor rushed in. Hajime wasn’t sure if he should wait or not. The longer he stood there, the weirder he realized the situation was. If Nagito had fallen down the stairs, why was he having trouble breathing instead of a broken bone or something? Why’d the hospital staff know him so well? He had a “condition” that they were aware of? What did that even mean? He sighed in frustration and when he saw the nurse, leave the room, he stopped her, reading her nametag quickly.

                “Mikan-“ He stepped in front of her and she looked ready to panic. _Should someone this fainthearted really be working in medicine?_ “What’s Nagito’s ‘condition?’ Is he okay?”

                “Yep! I-I mean... I think so. Um, you can leave if you want. Not that I’m telling you to leave! You can also stay!”

                “Er, just tell him that he can call me if he needs a ride home.” Hajime shook his head and left. Was Nagito really okay?

* * *

 

                The next day, while Hajime was on his lunch break, Nagito showed up at the school. “Hajime?” He knocked on his class door and walked in, cautiously. He was wearing a nametag for visitors. Gundham, Peko, and Souda were sitting with him in his room. Peko was a strict, but well-meaning PE teacher. Souda was an engineering and physics teacher who seemed to constantly find himself as the brunt of student jokes.

                “Nagito? Hey.” Hajime stood up and walked out into the hall with Nagito. “How are you feeling?”

                “A lot better, thanks to you. I came by to thank you for last night, you didn’t have to help me, but you did.” Nagito’s eyes were wide and Hajime noticed he still had the hospital wristband on.

                “Er, I think most people would have helped you. I mean, what happened? Did you have a heart attack or something?” Hajime watched Nagito hesitate for a moment, like he was trying to decide if he wanted to continue talking or not. A heart attack at their age, when Nagito was that skinny, would almost definitely mean drugs were involved somehow. Hajime could understand why he wouldn’t share.

                “I have lymphoma and frontotemporal dementia. Some fluid got in my lungs and I just panicked, it’s nothing serious. The hospital sees me for it all the time.” Nagito scratched his head, looking embarrassed in telling Hajime. Hajime wasn’t sure why. Hajime opened his mouth to say something, but Nagito cut him off. “Really, Hajime, it’s nothing. I promise. Just acts up sometimes. Besides, there’s no use in worrying about someone like me, anyway.” He said quickly. Too quickly. Before Hajime could ask any more questions or what the hell that meant, Souda’s head popped around the corner of the classroom.

                “Hm? Hajime? Who’s this guy?” He asked and Nagito waved.

                “I’m Nagito Komaeda, nice to meet you.”

                “My new neighbor.” Hajime cut in and made a gesture for Nagito to come in. Nagito obliged, looking delighted at being invited to join the others. “We’re allowed to have guests over lunch, right?” Hajime frowned.

                “Haha! My ‘guests’ are _always_ with me!” Gundham laughed and one of his class hamsters crawled out from his suit pocket. _Where the hell does he keep those things?!_ Hajime wondered idly. Peko nodded. She’d had the guidelines memorized since the first day, somehow.

                “Are you all teachers? That’s so wonderful!” Nagito’s eyes sparkled excitedly and Hajime wondered if he was still on some medication from the hospital. But he also thought this wasn’t too different from Nagito’s usual personality. Peko just nodded, again.

                “I teach biology, the very essence of our life!” Gundham started on one of his spiels, but Souda cut in.

                “Hell yeah! I teach phyics, that’s like _really_ hard, y’know? I’m pretty good at it, too.” He puffed his chest out and Nagito nodded, like he believed him. They talked for the rest of lunch, and when the bell rang, Nagito said a quick goodbye and ducked out of the classroom. Gundham watched him leave, with a hand to his chin like he was thinking.

                “I sense a deep chaos in that one.”

                “What does that mean?” Souda wrinkled his nose. Hajime had a similar question at the front of his mind, but it went unanswered as Gundham left for frog dissections. Nagito had given him no reason to be wary of him, and in fact, he _wanted_ to know more about the strange man, but something about him... didn’t sit perfectly. Chaos had been the perfect word for it. _Maybe Gundham should be the English teacher, not me_. Hajime laughed inwardly and picked up a stack of ungraded essays from his desk.

* * *

 

                The next few weeks passed much in the same way. Occasional chats with Nagito, or even running into him at the coffee shop, again, were now just becoming part of the daily schedule Hajime had constructed for himself so long ago. Unfortunately, the only new development had been Nagito’s decision to reopen the funeral parlor. As far as Hajime knew, no actual bodies were being messed around with there, other than being placed in coffins, but it still gave him the shivers. Every time he saw a new family leave, dressed in black with tissues clutched in their hands, he felt a pang in his heart. Nagito, while Hajime was certain he was used to death, seemed much the same way. He held the hands of every grieving wife and offered a shoulder to every grieving man trying not to cry. Hajime had even seen him kneel down and comfort a small child mourning his brother.

                Whether or not Nagito was eccentric or “chaotic” he was a good person. Hajime grew to believe that strongly as the days passed. He was glad to have him as a friend.

                The weather was getting steadily colder, and while snow was yet to come, Hajime had started adding a light jacket to his daily suit. Nagito seemed to have the same idea and had started wearing a light green jacket whenever he was out, trying his best to defend his flowers from the weather. _He looks nice_. Hajime caught himself thinking once and quickly dispelled the thought. His relationship with Nagito wasn’t like that. Nagito was too fragile and dating a neighbor would be a nightmare.

* * *

 

                Hajime stepped out of the school building and sighed, breathing in the cold air straight to his lungs. The staff meeting had gone late, again. He hopped in his car and turned the seat warmers on, thankful that he at least didn’t have to deal with the usual traffic. He got home and made himself some tea. The news was playing in the background and he heard muffled talking about a serious storm sweeping through the area. “Looks like you’re not going on your nightly walk, then.” He apologized to Scruffy, who was whining at the television like he knew what it was saying. Just as he was about to sit down and get some reading in before bed, his phone rang loudly. He frowned and answered. “Hello?”

                “Hajime, it’s Nagito. I’m so sorry to bother you, again-“

                “Nagito, are you hurt?”

                “No! Ah, nothing of the sort! My power’s just out, I was wondering if yours is, too?” He sounded distracted and Hajime heard a heavy clunk.

                “It’s working fine, here. Is the entire house out?” Hajime asked and heard another loud _bang_ through the speaker. “Nagito, _what the hell is that noise_?”

                “Haha, sorry, Hajime! My heater went out with the storm, I’m trying to fix it!” Nagito laughed apologetically. _I should send Souda over_. Hajime thought, then paused. _Wait._

                “Nagito, it’s probably connected to the power. Why don’t you just come over until the storm passes?” He frowned into the phone and threw a toy for Scruffy, who caught it happily. Nagito gasped.

                “Really? Oh, Hajime, you’re a Godsend! Thank you!” He hung up and mere moments later, the doorbell was ringing. Scruffy barked, but Hajime picked him up and let Nagito inside. His eyes instantly flew to the dog and he patted its head despite its barking and growling. “My mother used to have a Chihuahua before she died. It was never as nice as yours, though.” Nagito tilted his head at Scruffy, who had started to wag his tail. Hajime grinned sheepishly.

                “Er, yeah. Gundham picked him out, not me. He’s got an affinity for... small animals.” Hajime put Scruffy down and started to pour tea for Nagito, as well. Nagito took is graciously and sat down in the living room.

                “Won’t your wife be mad about me staying here?” Nagito tilted his head and Hajime choked on his tea.

                “W-wife? I don’t have a wife.”

                “Oh, woops. Sorry.” Nagito drummed his fingers alongside the cup and eyed the news. They were saying the storm would rage on for the rest of the night, and as if on cue, the entire house shook from a sudden clap of thunder. “Sorry for assuming, I just thought someone as nice as you would have someone. I’ve never seen anyone other than you leaving, so I should have guessed, I suppose.” Nagito hummed lightly as he spoke.

                “I’ve never seen someone leave your house, either.” Hajime had just been meaning to make conversation but he realized quickly that it sounded very much like an insult. Nagito didn’t seem to take it as one, though. He just laughed.

                “You won’t be seeing any women leaving my house, I can promise you that.” Nagito laughed even harder and Hajime wondered what was so funny.

                “N-Nagito, don’t put yourself down like that-“

                “I’m gay, Hajime.” He said it like it was obvious. Maybe it had been. Hajime blushed, but he wasn’t sure why and laughed with Nagito. “Thank you again for letting me come over. The cold was starting to get to me. Although maybe it was good luck.”

                “Hm?”

                “Because losing my heater means spending time with you.” Nagito laughed and Hajime raised an eyebrow.

                “It’s really not a big deal, Nagito.” He shook his head, trying to change the topic. “So it seems like you have good luck, huh?”

                “It’s a blessing and a curse.” Nagito agreed, staring at the TV while he spoke. “Good luck is great and all, but it also means that something bad will always happen to balance out the good. But it also means the opposite. The scale’s never uneven.” Nagito sipped his tea, suddenly looking nervous. “Sorry, I shouldn’t rant like this. How pessimistic. You’ll want to kick me out, already.” His eyes darted to Hajime’s side-table and the stack of books and games underneath it. Before Hajime could try to tell him that it was fine if he talked, Nagito began speaking again. “You have so many board games.” He seemed amused by this fact.

                “Uh, I guess. I bring them into class sometimes. Some of the teachers do game nights, too.” Hajime shrugged and moved to the floor to rifle through them. “Want to play one? How about Life?”

                “No, that’s all luck. Luck is rather boring. How about monopoly?” Nagito reached over Hajime and grabbed the game. Hajime resisted the urge to argue that Monopoly was all luck, too. They set up the game quietly and started playing, the news still creating a quiet drone in the background. Nagito was winning, but barely. Lightning had started to strike occasionally outside, and Scruffy had crawled into Hajime’s lap to get to safety. Nagito had laughed and reached over Hajime’s lap to pet him. They didn’t finish the game, but they were both growing bored and Hajime had flipped off from the news to a random station, where a horror movie was playing. They moved over on the floor to watch it and Hajime pulled a few blankets from the couch. “Who’s she?” Nagito was staring at the photograph on Hajime’s side table. Hajime hesitated.

                “Erm, that’s Chiaki. We were good friends since we were young.”

                “’Were?’” Nagito raised an eyebrow.

                “She died in an accident while we were in college.” Hajime’s voice was hollow. Nagito’s head turned to look at him with a gaze that seemed to bore right into his soul.

                “Ah. I’m sorry if I... brought up bad memories. It wasn’t my intention.” Nagito’s hands were twisting in the blanket like he was nervous. Hajime wasn’t sure what about. He shrugged off Nagito’s words and turned his attention back to the movie. At some point, Hajime felt a weight on his shoulder and looked down to see Nagito had fallen asleep, his head resting on Hajime’s shoulder. His wild hair was tickling Hajime’s neck, but he didn’t move him. As the movie wore on, Hajime felt his eyelids grow heavy, too, and he eventually found himself drifting into a deep sleep.

                When he woke up, Hajime was laying over Nagito like a human blanket. The two had drifted to the side in their sleep and ended up lying together on the plush carpet. Hajime straightened up quickly and sighed in relief when he saw that Nagito was still snoring lightly, eyes closed in a peaceful slumber. He glanced up out the window to see the lights back on in Nagito’s house and he tapped his shoulder, trying to wake him. Nagito’s arm fell out of the blankets, but he didn’t stir. Hajime wondered how his bare forearm could be that pale. Maybe he didn’t get out in the sun, enough? He was about to try and wake the white haired man again, when he noticed a thin scar on his now exposed forearm. He frowned, but resisted the urge to trace the mark on his wrist. It wasn’t his place to ask Nagito about that. They were just neighbors, after all. “Nagito, your power’s back on.” Hajime shook him lightly and Nagito finally blinked back into consciousness, looking around the room.

                Hajime hadn’t realized how closely he’d been leaning over Nagito until their noses almost touched. Nagito’s eyes were half lidded and he still looked half asleep. He reached one pale hand out and Hajime flinched at the sudden cold contact on his cheek, but before he could react any more, Nagito leaned upwards and kissed him.

                Nagito’s lips were soft and the kiss was light, but Hajime instantly froze. _What’s he doing?_ He thought, his eyes wide. After a second, Nagito pulled away with a dejected expression and smiled apologetically. “Sorry.” He murmured and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

                “I, er, you should... you should go.” Hajime stammered, taking a step back.

                “Yeah.” Nagito didn’t argue, just stood up and left without another word. Hajime watched him walk back to his house through the window. Scruffy was pawing at the door to go out, but Hajime couldn’t hear him. He put a hand to his lips, as if trying to tell whether or not _that_ had just happened. _Is Nagito_ into _me?_ He wondered, running a nervous hand through his hair. _No. He probably just got me mixed up with someone else. He was half asleep, I can hardly blame him. We’ll just forget this whole thing ever happened. Yeah._

                Except Hajime didn’t see Nagito outside the next day. Or the next. Even when Monday rolled around and Hajime walked out to his car before work, Nagito’s daily wave was strikingly absent. _Wait... Is he_ mad _at me?_ Hajime wondered on the drive to work, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _He doesn’t have any right to be. I mean, he kissed me out of the blue without giving me any warning or asking or anything. What was I supposed to do? Fall head over heels in love with him?_ Hajime was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Nagito’s car wasn’t parked when he came home and he breathed a sigh of relief.

                The next day went the same way, until Hajime came home to find Nagito’s door swinging on its hinges. He frowned at it. Nagito’s car was parked outside, so he had to be home. Why didn’t he close it? Unless... A sudden and terrifying thought crossed Hajime’s mind. _What if he’s hurt, again?_ He cursed and parked the car, walking up to Nagito’s door. “Nagito? Is everything okay?” He called out into the house but got no reply. His blood ran cold.

                “Nagito? Nagito can you hear me?” He walked around the first floor, but didn’t find anyone or anything out of place. He heard water running upstairs and he climbed the stairs, a feeling of dread in his stomach. What if he found him dead? _What if the last thing I said to him was ‘you should leave?’ Oh my God, that’s terrible._ Hajime looked around and followed the sound of the water to the master bedroom. The bathroom door was ajar and he realized the water sound was the shower running. _What if he fell in the shower?_ _No, no I’m overthinking this..._ But the mental image of Nagito that night Hajime had taken him to the hospital was swimming behind his eyes. Nagito, lying helpless on the floor with a collapsed lung or Nagito struggling in silent pain from an aneurysm- _alright, fine! I’ll check on him!_ Hajime opened the door slowly and peeked inside.

                The shower was glass, but it had a border around the bottom and at first, Hajime thought Nagito wasn’t inside. But he caught a glimpse of his messy hair and his pale face peeking out above the border. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were closed like he was in pain. Hajime remembered how heavily he’d been breathing when he’d had the issue with his lungs. He was kneeling too, like he was too weak to stand on his feet. _He’s probably hurt again, shit!_ Hajime thought to himself, but before he could raise his voice or tell Nagito he was there, Nagito murmured something.

                “Hajime-“ He gasped and then opened his eyes, seeing Hajime standing at the bathroom entrance for the first time. His eyes went wide and he grabbed a towel from the side of the shower, turning off the water quickly. He was moving around; he was fine. _Then why was he breathing like tha- oh. Oh God._

                “Nagito! I-I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to scare you, erm, your door was open and you didn’t respond when I called up to you, I-I just got worried.” Hajime was instantly regretting everything. Nagito was definitely fine. And now Hajime looked like some kind of weird peeping Tom. _This is terrible_ , his inner voice grumbled. “I really didn’t mean to walk in, I swear-“

                “No worries, Hajime. I’ve recently told you that I’m ill, it’s understandable that you would be worried. Besides, now we’re even.” Nagito wasn’t reacting as much as Hajime expected him to. He knew that if Nagito had shown up in _his_ bathroom, he’d be freaking out. That would be a normal reaction, wouldn’t it?

                “I don’t know what you mean.” Hajime frowned, taking a step back. _Why am I staying here this long? I should go, this is just making it more awkward._

                “Hm. I embarrassed you on Friday, didn’t I? You’ve walked in on me, so now we’re even.” Nagito’s voice was matter of fact and Hajime thought back to the conversation they’d had about Nagito’s belief in everything equaling out.

                “N-no, I really didn’t do this on purpose.  I’m gonna leave. Um, bye.” Hajime shut the bathroom door and ran out of the house and into his own. Once inside, he slammed the door shut and sank into the couch, putting a hand to his burning face. _That was so awkward. I’m going to die._ _Not only did I basically break into his house, I walked into his bathroom while he was showering and I’m pretty sure he was masturbating. Jesus Christ. This is terrible._ Hajime groaned and patted Scruffy’s head.

                He finished his nightly routine, doing everything possible to not remember the earlier events of the day until he finally went to bed, where he had no distraction from them. Something wasn’t sitting right with him. _You’re probably just embarrassed, Hajime. I can’t even imagine how embarrassed Nagito probably is._ He sighed and turned on his side, fishing around for a book to read before he slept as a distraction. He picked up his copy of  For Whom the Bell Tolls and caught a glimpse of his name inscribed on the inside cover. His name. That’s what was bothering him. He sat up in his bed and frowned. Hajime.

                The whole scene replayed quickly in Hajime’s mind and he realized with sudden, choked fear what had given him such an unsettled feeling. Nagito had said his name before he’d known Hajime was in the room. _Nagito was jerking off and saying my name? What the fuck?! What the fuck am I supposed to do now? This is so awkward, oh God, this is terrible._ Hajime groaned out loud again and sank into his pillows, burying his face to avoid looking at the world. Scruffy jumped onto the bed and licked the back of his neck. “You’re right. We’ll sort this all out tomorrow.” Hajime sighed and let himself fall asleep while Scruffy curled up on the pillow next to him.

* * *

 

                When Hajime finished work the next day, he had to use all of his willpower to walk over and ring Nagito’s doorbell. He waited, tapping his foot nervously and listening for the sound of footsteps inside. _Can I even try to have a discussion with someone like him?_ Nagito opened the door with wide eyes and a curious expression. He had a plain bandaid covering his cheek on one side. “Hajime?”

                “Hi. Um, are you okay?” Hajime gestured to the bandaid and Nagito nodded.

                “Mhm. I fell after you left yesterday.”

                “Shit, Nagito, you could’ve called-“

                “I’m not sure that would have been a good idea.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Hajime stayed quiet for a second, trying to hide the blush that had settled on his cheeks. “But is everything alright with you, Hajime? If I’d seen someone like me being that disgusting, I wouldn’t try to talk to them unless it was an absolute emergency.” He laughed again and Hajime wondered desperately what so funny to him all the damn time.

                “Erm, I think we should talk. Just, about everything. Make sure we’re on the same page.” Hajime shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Nagito gave him a strange look before raising an eyebrow.

                “Oh, are you inviting me to dinner?” He asked and Hajime realized that it technically _was_ dinner time. He just usually ate late.

                “Well, that’s not really what I mean, but um, sure. I’m just having takeout, though, it’s not anything too exc-“

                “Thank you, Hajime! I’m very excited!” Nagito smiled happily and grabbed his coat, not waiting for further confirmation. _I should’ve expected something like this_. Hajime grumbled in his head and turned back towards his own lawn, not waiting for Nagito. He followed closely behind, anyway. Hajime held the door open for Nagito, who thanked him warmly like it was more than a simple formality. Hajime was barely in the door before he started ordering the food on his cellphone. Until there was food to eat, they had nothing to do besides talk and he wanted to keep that to as much of a minimum as possible. While he was on the phone, Nagito had knelt down to play with Scruffy, who was licking his hands and barking playfully. When the order ended, Nagito looked back up at Hajime and tilted his head to the side. “So what is it you wanted to talk about?”

                Hajime swallowed, nervously. He closed his eyes for a moment to collect his thoughts and confidence. _If you don’t ask now, you’ll never get the balls to do it._ He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth nervously. “Nagito... Do you like me?”

                “Yes.” Nagito responded with a blank stare.

                “N-no, I don’t mean as friends or neighbors, I mean-“

                “I assumed as much, Hajime. Do you think I’m juvenile enough to need it explained to me?” Nagito raised an eyebrow and Hajime froze. _That means... He does? He answered so nonchalantly... I don’t understand this guy at all._ Hajime hadn’t realized how long the silence had carried on until Nagito spoke up, again. “It’s alright, Hajime, you don’t need to like me back.”

                “No, that’s not it-“

                “So you do?” Nagito seemed surprised by this.

                “No! I mean, neither should you! We barely know each other at all, that’s all.” Hajime finally got a full response out, sighing in frustration. Nagito put Scruffy down and stood back up.

                “I disagree. I think you and I already know each other pretty well, because we’re very similar.” Before Hajime could ask what Nagito meant by that, the doorbell rang and he jumped in surprise. Nagito gave him an amused look and opened the door. The delivery man was standing outside, so Hajime took the food and tipped him, before carrying the food to his table. “You like this restaurant, too, Hajime?” Nagito poked at the bag.

                “Hm? I guess.”

                “I order out every night so I have to go there a lot.” Nagito said solemnly, sitting down. Hajime blinked.

                “Every night? That’s gotta cost a fortune.” He frowned. It was too hard to tell when Nagito was joking around. He had some wine that he cracked open, because God knew he needed the alcohol to deal with the other man right then.

                “I’m not good at cooking.” He shrugged. “Besides, I have the money.”

                “Then why are you even bothering with working?”

                “I don’t wanna be bored. And at least then I can help some people.” Nagito pushed his food around on his plate, frowning. The silence hung heavy and awkward in the air, suffocating Hajime until he realized he didn’t know how to communicate with this guy.

                “What did you mean when you said we were similar? I don’t see it.” Hajime finally asked the question that had been bothering him since before the food had arrived and he sat back, waiting for Nagito’s response. For some odd reason, he almost felt like he was in a debate with Nagito, not just a “friendly” discussion between neighbors. Nagito looked down with a pained glance.

                “I don’t blame you for not seeing yourself as similar to someone as insignificant as me-“ Nagito started, but Hajime sent him an annoyed glance and he stopped, sighing. “Fine. We’re both unsatisfied with the mundane, aren’t we? You’re bored with this whole life, right? I’m the same way.” Nagito was inspected his fingernails as he spoke and Hajime instantly thought back to his drive home the day they’d met. His fear of living a boring life. There was no way Nagito could know about that; he barely even knew that side of himself. “Unfortunately, I’m useless to you right now.” He sighed.

                “I... I have no idea what you mean, Nagito.” Hajime couldn’t tell if he was interested or frustrated before he decided on a disconcerting combination of the two. Nagito didn’t answer his question, just pushed forward with his strange tangent.

                “But I really do want to be useful to you. I owe a lot to you. You’re the first person to be kind to me in years and you’re the only interesting person I’ve met in an even longer time. I really think that you’re special, Hajime.” Nagito’s voice was different as he spoke and carried more seriousness than his usual jovial tone.  Hajime wasn’t sure how to respond so he just continued eating. They ate in silence for what felt like a painful eternity. Finally Hajime stood up to clear their plates, silently reveling in finding an opening to tell Nagito goodbye without it being rude. He reached for Nagito’s plate, but Nagito grabbed it before he could. “I don’t mind dishes, I’ll do it.” He shook his head and took the other plate from Hajime as he walked into the kitchen. Hajime frowned. “So how long have you lived here?” Nagito made conversation while he did the dishes.

                “Just two years. I started teaching at the high school so I thought it would be good to live here.” Hajime wasn’t sure why, but he had started noticing a constant feeling of there being an underlying motive in the questions Nagito asked him.

                “Do you know the neighbors well?”

                “Er, no. Not really.”

                “Then don’t you get lonely?”

                “Not really. Is there a point you’re trying to make with me, Nagito?” Hajime’s patience was growing thin. He just received an innocent smile in response.

                “Simple curiosity is all. Although, I meant what I said at dinner.” Nagito’s tone suddenly changed and his eyes grew darker than Hajime had remembered them being. “I’d like to be useful to you, Hajime. Even if that means that you just use me.” Nagito took a step towards Hajime, who found himself walking backwards in response. They ended up in the living room. Nagito sank to his knees on the carpet and the usual height difference was gone.

                “Nagito, what are y-“

                “I wouldn’t be mad at you for using me, Hajime. I really wouldn’t. I’d never expect anything from you -I know that’s not my place.” Nagito was continuing his little rant and Hajime still wasn’t entirely sure he liked where it was going. Hajime tried to take another step back, but his knees hit the couch and he stumbled back on to it. _Was that his plan all along?_ Hajime scowled. _When did Nagito even get this... weird? He’s always been eccentric, but this is something else entirely._ Nagito had broken his intense stare and was watching the carpet like it was the most interesting thing in the world, his face far away and somehow still excited. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”

                “That’s kind of a childish insult.” Hajime frowned in frustration.

                “Don’t you get _lonely_?” It was the same phrase as earlier, but this time, Nagito enunciated every syllable, like he was remembering the words as he went. At first, Hajime didn’t understand what he meant, thought he was just trying to make the same confusing point he’d never finished, earlier. He finally got the courage to look back into Nagito’s eyes and he saw the difference. Nagito’s eyes were half lidded and there was a definite color seeping into the sides of his pale cheeks, contrasting the white bandaid. His head was tilted just so slightly and his mouth was open just enough for Hajime to notice the slight rise and fall of his chest.

                “Oh. _Oh-_ “ Hajime’s eyes went wide. He understood the hidden meaning to Nagito’s words, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “N-Nagito-“

                “You like boys-“

                “I- er, well, how.... how did you-“

                “So even with how _useless_ I am, there’s still at least one thing that I can help you with. Please let me help you, Hajime.” Nagito gripped Hajime’s shirt, moving closer suddenly. Startled by the sudden contact, Hajime stumbled and fell off the couch, barely catching himself before he fully landed on Nagito, who seemed to think it had been on purpose. His eyes widened with happiness and he smiled. “Hajime-“

                “Wait, just _wait a second_.” Hajime grumbled. “You can’t... you can’t just come in and do this, okay? We need to talk about things like this if they’re going to happen.”

                “Hm. Why?” Nagito seemed genuinely confused. This frustrated Hajime even more. At least if he’d been feigning dumb, he’d have a reason to be pissed.

                “We _still_ don’t know each other very well. We’re not starting a relationship. If this goes poorly, we’re neighbors and we’ll have to face it every day for the rest of our lives. And you’re sick, what if I hurt you?”

                “I wouldn’t mind if you hurt me.” Nagito’s voice was devoid of any jokes. _He really wouldn’t care. That’s terrifying._ Hajime’s mind was saying, but he felt a sick rise somewhere within himself. _But wouldn’t it be kind of interesting to have someone who would put that much trust in you? Just a little, at least..._ “You’re thinking about it.” Nagito broke Hajime from his thoughts. He shuffled backwards a little, looking up and down the other man. “Really, I swear you won’t regret it. I’ll never bring it up again if it makes you uncomfortable. Or you can hit me if it’s bad, I don’t care-“

                “Jesus Christ. I’m not going to _hit_ you. What kind of person do you take me for?” He recoiled at the words while Nagito just watched him with a strange look like he didn’t understand why Hajime wouldn’t hit him. Hajime reached a hand out, like he was checking to see if this new side to Nagito was really real, not some sort of terrible hallucination. But sure enough, his hand hit warm, solid flesh. Without thinking, he rubbed his thumb over the unmarred cheek. Nagito leaned into his touch like a cat, eyes narrowing. He hadn’t noticed how thick the tension had become between them and when he felt it, Hajime’s breath caught in his throat. “You should go home, Nagito. I don’t think you’re feeling well, this isn’t like you.”

                “I thought we barely knew each other.” Nagito’s rebuttal was cold and clever, but he hid it behind an innocent look. He was good at that, hiding behind innocent looks when he jabbed at others with his words. Hajime just scowled and stood up, offering a hand to Nagito, who paused before taking it.

                “I invited you to talk so we could sort things out, not make more issues-“

                “Please don’t send me home.” Nagito’s voice was quiet.

                “I...” Hajime trailed off at Nagito’s downcast face and small frown. He clenched his fists and sighed in frustration. _He’s playing you. He’s just going to try something._ But something about those haunting eyes pulled out the less cynical part of Hajime and he nodded. “You can’t try anything weird, okay? I’ll set you up a bed here on the couch.”

* * *

 

                After Hajime set up a bed, ignoring Nagito’s sad little look that most definitely translated to something along the lines of _oohh can I sleep in Hajime’s bed, instead?_ Or something equally weird. “Why don’t you want to go home?” He finally asked, turning to look at Nagito.

                “...I forgot how many bad memories are in that house. It’s hard being there alone, sometimes.” Nagito had a bitter smile. “Hahaha, although I shouldn’t talk. I’m probably making bad memories for Hajime in his house by being here with him right now!”

                “Why do you hate yourself so much?” Hajime’s eyebrows were drawn in frustration. Nagito just frowned in response.

                “That would take all night, Hajime.”

                “Well. We don’t have that. Good night, Nagito. _Don’t_ try anything.” Hajime warned, starting to climb the stairs to his own room.

                “Thank you again, Hajime, you’re the most amazing neighbor in the world, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you!” Nagito started on a tangent, but Hajime was already upstairs, drifting to sleep.

* * *

 

                When Hajime woke up from his annoyingly restless sleep, Nagito was at the foot of the bed, staring at him with wide eyes. “AGH- _What the fuck?!_ ” He yelped, jumping backwards and almost hitting his head. Scruffy barked once, lazily. _Some guard dog, thanks Gundham_. Hajime’s thoughts grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

                “I just came to tell you that you’re almost out of handsoap when I saw you had a _situation_ and I wanted to help, Hajime.” Nagito was kneeling on the bed, looking down at Hajime, who felt strangely naked in his shirt and boxers. He followed Nagito’s gaze to his morning wood and swore under his breath. Nagito crawled forward on the bed, until one of his hands accidentally touched Hajime’s inner thigh and he shivered.

                “Erm, it’s cold.” He tried to cover the shiver like it had _anything at all_ to do with the temperature. Nagito nodded solemnly, although Hajime was fairly certain he’d also seen through the act. He grabbed the blanket that Hajime had accidentally kicked to the end of the bed during his sleeping fits and pulled it over himself and Hajime up to his waist. “Huh? What’re you doing under-“ Hajime stopped dead when he felt cold hands pull the elastic of his underwear down. He let out a choked noise in surprise. _Didn’t I tell him not to try anything? Does he just not give a single fuck?_ He sat up, about to pull the blanket off and tell off Nagito, when a warm, wet heat enveloped his cock and he couldn’t stop the hissed sound of pleasure that erupted from him. A reassuring hand landed on his thigh, massaging him with an undeniable affection.

                Nagito’s tongue darted out and licked up and down Hajime’s shaft, slowly, until he was digging his fingers into the blanket to try and get traction on _something_ at least. Nagito took him down into his throat, farther than Hajime thought he’d be able to go and gasped as he twirled his tongue around the head in a way that made his head spin. Nagito had done this before, that was now a known fact. Hajime was surprised at the curiosity he felt as to _who_. Had it been a college fling? Had he started in high school? Had there been a “friendly” neighbor before Hajime? He shuddered at the thought of Nagito’s head bobbing underneath that blanket, messy and deliberate in his pace. It should’ve bothered him that he was thinking about _Nagito_ that way, but his mind wasn’t there. His mind was in his dick, focusing on the steadily growing heat gnawing at his stomach. He could feel that familiar void inside of himself, eating away at him until he knew he’d become nothing but that one sensation. He didn’t want to cum this fast. He wasn’t sure _why_ he cared about Nagito thinking he was fast at all, but something about having that reputation with Nagito made unease and shame prick up in the back of his mind.

                Hajime pulled the blanket off in a single gesture, surprising Nagito for a moment before he continued with his steadily increasing pace. He couldn’t help himself, he dragged his fingers through Nagito’s wild hair until he found a hold and gripped him, earning a surprising moan from the man on him. “N-Nagito-“ He started as a warning, but Nagito seemed to understand perfectly. He didn’t attempt to move away or back off and Hajime knew that he’d never expected Nagito to. He felt like he was leaning over a cliff and when he finally fell, it was a much harder impact than he’d been expecting. The white hot pleasure that hit him was like a brick to the face in the best way possible and he felt his back arch off the bed, hands gripping Nagito’s hair far harder than could be comfortable.

                When he came off his high, panting, he caught the tail end of Nagito wiping a shaky hand over his mouth. “I’m surprised, Hajime.” He took a breath. “I’m surprised you were okay with taking the blanket off as it meant seeing someone as disgusting as me do filthy things to you. I’m so impressed you could stomach it, Hajime-“

                Hajime was too fucked to take any more of this. He pushed Nagito down on the bed, eliciting a startled yelp from the other man that sent a shock of smugness through his veins. Finally it was his turn to surprise Nagito. He pushed Nagito’s pants down and reached into his underwear, stopping at just the elastic when he heard the shuddered gasp it pulled from Nagito. He let his other hand trail up Nagito’s side, feeling just how small and frail he really was. Nagito was suddenly much less talkative while Hajime was leaned over him, teasing him to the point where the white haired man couldn’t continue pulling the strings of everything. His face had flushed a deep pink and his lips parted in a silent moan when Hajime finally squeezed his length through his boxers. He rolled his hips eagerly and then froze, a shocked light returning to his eyes. He scrambled away from Hajime like he’d been burned and pulled his pants up. “Nagito, what-what happened? Are you okay?”

                “How... How overzealous of me.” He was staring down at his own body with a bitter sort of hatred. “To allow you to touch something as pitiful as me when I asked to _help_ you.” His bottom lip shook like he was going to cry and Hajime sat up straight, putting a hand out in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

                “Nagito, you’re not nearly as bad as you think, just stop. Come here-“

                “Ah, look at the time. School starts soon, doesn’t it?” Nagito tilted his head towards the alarm clock and Hajime swore loudly. _He got me this time, but I’ll be prepared for the next- wait. The next time? What am I saying?_ By the time he’d looked up from his thoughts, Nagito was gone. He grumbled a response to the air and put a hand to his head. _Your neighbor just sucked your dick. And now you have to wake up and wave to him every single fucking day of the year for the rest of your life like it didn’t happen. Great going, Hajime._

                Hajime groaned and rolled out of bed and started pulling on his clothes for work like it was just any other day. _What else can I do?_ He figured as he trudged downstairs for breakfast. He’d never had sex with someone who didn’t at the very least stay for breakfast. _Well it wasn’t really_ sex _. It was more like er... a blow and go or something like that._ He fed Scruffy his breakfast, wishing he could be as carefree as the bouncing Chihuahua.

                Work went by like it was a regular day. The same kid called him boring and he was afraid that nervous little part of him would come back to haunt him again, but instead his mind just snapped back a silent response. _I’m boring? I got my dick sucked this morning, how about you? Didn’t think so. You’re just a greasy little high school boy with an attitude proble- wait. Am I_ gloating _about this now? Really? I have no room to, it’s not like I even returned the favor... In my defense, he wouldn’t_ let _me._ Hajime was shuffling through papers, tapping his foot as he thought. A sudden idea made his blood run cold and his head snapped up. Nagito was trying to get something out of him. That’s why he left before Hajime could do anything for him. Because then Hajime wouldn’t owe him any favors.

                The rest of the day was spent worrying over what in his possession or power Nagito could want bad enough to suck his dick as a manipulation attempt for. “What do you guys think is the most valuable thing I have?” He asked his usual lunch crew.

                “Orpheus, the small dark lord of all evil beings.” Gundham replied solemnly. _Scruffy. Why the fuck does he call Scruffy that._ Hajime thought.

                “Your car.” Souda nodded. _I doubt he’s trying to steal my car._

                “Yourself.” Peko’s voice told Hajime she hadn’t meant it as a compliment, more of a fact. Realization hit him like a wall and he coughed suddenly, almost spilling his water bottle down the side of his desk dictionary. Nagito was trying to lull Hajime into some sort of victim act so that he’d eventually feel bad and date him. That had to be it. He’d _admitted_ (very easily- Hajime added as an afterthought) that he was attracted to him. This was all just part of a ploy to get him interested via guilt or unspoken rules. _Well, Nagito, two can play at that game._ He frowned and bit into his sandwich.

* * *

 

                Hajime pulled into his driveway, parked, and then stomped over to Nagito’s house, ringing his doorbell. There was no answer. He glanced over his shoulder. Nagito’s car was definitely there. He rang the doorbell again, tapping his foot impatiently. He was about to ring a third time when Nagito answered the door, his unassuming eyes feigning a surprised look at Hajime’s sudden appearance. “Hajime? Is everything alright?”

                “No! Everything is _not_ alright, Nagito, let me in the house.”

                “Hm. Okay.” Nagito opened the door wide enough for Hajime to get through and then turned back to the kitchen, where’d they’d spent their first afternoon together. “Do you want some tea? I just-“

                “No, thanks.” Now that he was actually face to face with Nagito, his well-constructed (and God knows well-rehearsed) speech was going to shreds in his memory. He almost felt guilty calling out Nagito, who seemed so... so innocent in it all. _But that’s gotta be part of it. It has to be part of it._ Hajime shook his head. “You can’t manipulate me, Nagito. I’m not going to let you.” Hajime finally said, proud of the stern tone he’d managed to conjure up in himself. Nagito paused from where he was putting back a box of tea bags.

                “Did something happen, Hajime?” Nagito’s voice always seemed to dip lower when he said Hajime’s name. Hajime wasn’t sure why he said it so much, but somehow it made the awkward tension between the two of them so much less obvious. Maybe that was why Nagito insisted on referring to Hajime constantly.

            “Yes! This morning?” Hajime worried for a second that the whole thing had been a really out there wet dream, but Nagito frowned.

            “I mean as to how I’m manipulating you.” Nagito wasn’t apologizing and trampling over his insecurities like usual which surprised Hajime. Even if he was right and he was being completely ingenuine, he’d still expect Nagito to keep up the self-deprecation.

            “That’s why you… Um. Y’know.” Hajime made a vague gesture at his groin. “I’m not entirely sure as to what it is you’re trying to get out of me, but that’s not the way to do it. Are… Are you looking for a relationship or…?” Hajime trailed off.

            “I wouldn’t expect you to come into a relationship with me unless it was just simply out of your kindess-”

            “Stop. Just be honest with me.”

            “I am, Hajime. I don’t know what else you expect.” Nagito narrowed his eyes. It was actually somewhat comforting seeing Nagito respond to the situation with a little bit of anger. It made him seem more human. With his usual range of emotion, it was easy to dehumanize Nagito. Hajime would even go so far as to think that was an aspect of why Nagito turned to the self-hate act so often. He wasn’t so sure the white haired man _wanted_ to be treated like a human. “If you’re angry with me, then do something about it. Don’t talk yourself in circles.” He said softly, leaning against the kitchen counter and looking down at Hajime. He really hated that height difference right now.

                “Listen, I don’t want a relationship right now.”

                “Okay.” Nagito seemed unbothered and unsurprised by this knowledge. Hajime took a hesitant breath before testing out the waters of what he was about to say.

                “But... if... if you think that this ‘helping me’’ thing you were going on about last night could work without one, then-“ He almost changed directions when he heard Nagito’s excited gasp. He closed his eyes and sighed. “fine. But I have a question for you.”

                “I’ll answer anything, Hajime.” Nagito’s eyes were sparkling again. That surprising cold was completely gone and it was hard to imagine it had ever been there.

                “What are you getting out of this? You won’t let me return the favor and it’s not like I’m paying-“ Hajime started, frowning in confusion.

                “I get _you_ , Hajime. You already asked how I felt about you. Giving you any sort of pleasure fulfills my wildest dreams.” Nagito took a shaky breath, like he was getting excited just thinking about it and Hajime narrowed his eyes. Nagito slinked over to him and then behind him, wrapping his arms around him and letting them start to drift lower. “Can I, Hajime? Please?” He asked, breath catching in his throat like whatever he was about to do was some amazing gift for him. Hajime faltered, hands twitching with uncertainty. _Should I really let him continue doing this?_ But it was useless. He was trying to explain reason to a body that hadn’t gotten laid in forever other than the morning’s excursion, and he knew he didn’t have the self-control to stop it with Nagito _right there_ when he knew how... talented he was. He finally nodded, slowly and silently. He felt Nagito breath a happy hum into the side of his neck, warm and tickly.

                Nagito’s thin hands felt their way down his stomach and explored the inside of his thigh, seeming like they were purposely not grazing the one place Hajime actually wanted them to. He knew in the back of his mind that all this feeling up wasn’t for _him_ , it was Nagito. Finally, Nagito’s hands dipped into Hajime’s waist and he palmed Hajime through his jeans. Hajime shuddered at the contact. Nagito’s deft hands started on his fly, pulling it down and exposing his boxers. Nagito let out a soft laugh. “I didn’t see them this morning. I like the island print.”

                “It’s not island, it’s hibiscus.” Hajime pouted. He felt another breathy laugh on the back of his neck and he shivered lightly. Nagito’s hand began moving up and down his shaft, surprising Hajime with his skill. He’d usually avoided handjobs with partners he hadn’t been with long. Too much room for dryness or painfully tight grips and other things he shuddered to think of. But like the blowjob, Nagito seemed practiced in a way that worried and aroused Hajime. It was good Nagito didn’t seem to want the favor returned because he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere near the ability of him.

                His hand suddenly hastened, twisting a sudden way that made stars dance behind Hajime’s eyes. He gasped and heard a responding noise from Nagito. He felt a moment of guilt in knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to convince Nagito to let him do anything in return. “Let’s... Let’s go somewhere we can both do this.” His breathing was getting harder. He hoped Nagito couldn’t notice.

                “Nhn... No. It’s not necessary. Unless here is uncomfortable for you, Hajime?”

                “No, it’s fine, I just- ah, think I should do _something_ for you.” He mumbled, his eyes closing and head tilting back. He could feel Nagito’s hair and he resisted the urge to run a hand through it, again, because he was pretty sure Nagito wouldn’t react well to the idea. Nagito gripped a little tighter, pulling his hand faster and faster until Hajime felt himself coming to a release. He barely had time to warn Nagito before it happened.

                Before Hajime had time to recover from his orgasm, Nagito had started washing his hands at the kitchen sink. He stood up and followed the taller man to the sink. He turned Nagito around. “Ah, was that better, Hajime? This time you didn’t have to see me at all!” He said it like it was some sort of achievement, but Hajime ignored him. He pressed Nagito back against the counter, gripping his hips for leverage. “Ha-Hajime, you really d-“

                “Shut up, Nagito.” He growled in annoyance. If Nagito talked the whole time, then he really would give it up. He ran a hand up under Nagito’s sweater, reveling in the surprised little noise it pulled from him. He’d figured Nagito was aroused, but he felt almost painfully hard when Hajime’s hand finally waltzed down lazily to his crotch, gripping him just to hear the moan Nagito would make.

                “Hajime-“ Nagito gasped, thin form leaning into Hajime instinctively. Hajime continued to ignore him until he heard a choked sound. He backed off.

                “Oh Jesus, you’re crying.” He mumbled before he had any other reaction. Nagito sank to the floor and curled up. Hajime felt a disgusting feeling settle in the pit of his stomach. Had he just forced Nagito into something? He’d thought that his insistence on not doing anything was just to keep their fling easier, not... not something serious. Hajime knelt down beside Nagito. “H-Hey it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

                “’m not worthy of that, Hajime.” Nagito mumbled and Hajime instantly felt a mix of relief and mild frustration flood through him. He was glad Nagito hadn’t felt forced, but he was getting really tired of the “not worthy” bit. “You should’ve just used me. See, look now I’ve ruined everything because I’m useless and _disgusting_. You shouldn’t have to look at me, Hajime. Hit me, Hajime. Please-“ Nagito looked up, but Hajime grabbed his wrist.

                “Stop! What the fuck? No one’s hitting anyone, just stop for a second. People panic all the time, that’s normal.” Hajime shook his head and stood up. “If you don’t want to, though, that’s fine. I’m going to go home. See you.” He started to walk out until a soft voice caught him as he was halfway through the door.

                “Thank you for comforting someone as despicable as me, Hajime.” Nagito’s voice was bright. Hajime just sighed and continued walking away.

* * *

 

                Compared to how he’d been scared it would go, the next two weeks went surprisingly smooth. No stalker Nagito. No terrible repercussions of the whole thing. He’d started coming by Nagito’s house almost every other day, and when he didn’t, Nagito would find some excuse to stop by his. Every time, Nagito refused any physical compensation for their rendez-vous and would do all but run away when it was done. Hajime felt like a bad high school boyfriend. The kind the girls in his class would gossip about their friend dating while Hajime would stare straight ahead, pretending he couldn’t hear a single word of their conversations from his desk.

                Hajime found himself at Nagito’s house after work. Nagito was in the middle of cleaning, but when he saw Hajime, he immediately dropped the broom and pulled the shorter man into the living room. “Hajim-“

                “You weren’t kidding about not cooking.” Hajime’s eyes went wide when he saw the trash bag by Nagito’s backdoor. Its only contents were takeout boxes from various local restaurants, with a few Styrofoam cups thrown in for good measure. Nagito seemed to almost blush.

                “Ah, yeah. It’s sort of a bother and I don’t really know how.” He scratched the back of his neck. Before his talented little hands could move to Hajime’s belt, Hajime grabbed his wrist, startling him into eye contact.

                “You don’t know how to cook? Like, _at all_?”

                “Erm... Ramen, and-“

                “You’re learning how to cook, come on.” Hajime pulled Nagito back into the kitchen with him, before he realized Nagito wouldn’t have any ingredients. He finished the thought by dragging Nagito all the way to his house and setting up class there, instead. “Alright. We’re gonna do this.”

                Hajime spent the night forcing Nagito to help him cook dinner with him. After every mistake, he had to sit through a barrage of “Sorry, Hajime, my useless hands accidentally set dinner on fire _again_ ” or “ _Hajime_ , my utter failure of a self got cut trying to dice this carrot” or some other terrifying phrase. But they were both still in one piece by the time it was finished and that was good enough for Hajime.

                “You did great for your first time in the kitchen.” Hajime offered, but Nagito shook his head profusely.

                “Only because you were there, Hajime. You really did everything.” Nagito’s wide eyes followed Hajime’s with intense admiration. He didn’t bother arguing, because for once, Nagito was right. They ate dinner together and the mood was surprisingly light. By the time they had finished talking and cleared their plates, it was late. Later than Hajime had expected. Nagito followed his gaze to the clock and gasped apologetically. “Hajime! I’m so sorry! I never even did anything for you, the single redeeming thing about me-“

                “No, this was nice. We should do it again, sometime.” Hajime hoped Nagito understood what he was trying to say. Not a date, just... hanging out. He wanted to humanize Nagito in his mind and turn him into something more than a neighbor who gave him blowjobs. If they were going to be “friends with benefits” they might as well get the “friend” part down. “Goodnight, Nagito. See you around.” He waved a goodbye to Nagito, who waved happily and walked back to his own house in the dark.

                The next day, after Hajime had zipped his pants back up and Nagito had rinsed his mouth out, he decided to keep on his offer and stay. “I’m afraid I’ll be even more terribly boring than usual today, Hajime. I’m a little under the weather so I was just planning on reading-“

                “Reading’s nice. I mean, I’m an English teacher.” Hajime cut him off before the self-deprecation could try to escalate itself. Nagito nodded, happily. They read together for a while, only exchanging a few words. As the sun started to set, it casts shadows on Nagito’s pointed cheeks and his long, pale lashes. Despite his thinness and his angularity, he looked... gentle. Like a lamb. Hajime wondered how he did that.

* * *

 

                Slowly, but surely, Nagito was becoming an even bigger part of the daily routine Hajime had set for himself. Two months had passed and Nagito still seemed eager as ever to perform any act on Hajime, like it was some sort of gift to him. Two months and he still refused any reciprocation. Hajime was beginning to wonder if messing around with Nagito was going to become a permanent thing. But if it was... there were some changes he needed to make and he knew that.

                Guilt had been gnawing at his stomach since the first time. Never giving back to Nagito felt like a dick move, no matter how fervently Nagito argued it wasn’t. Until he knew that them getting off was a mutual thing, he couldn’t really get used to it. Nagito had made hints and Hajime had enough common sense to know that Nagito jerked it to him. That much he could figure out. But he felt like a cheap fuck buddy having Nagito do all the work for the both of them.

                He called Nagito over his lunch break, careful not to say anything too suggestive while Souda was in the room. “Hey, can you stop by my house after work? I had something I needed your help with.”

                “Of course, Hajime, anything for you!” Came the cheery response. _Now all that’s left is getting through the day_. He thought to himself and finished off his bag of potato chips from the school vending machine.

                When he was finally released from work, he drove home as fast as he could and waited patiently for Nagito to finally knock on the door before coming inside. As soon as he was inside, Hajime pushed him against a wall. “Nagito, I want to get you off.”

                First came a startled gasping noise and then a submissive but not that convincing noise of negation. “Hajime please, I’m really not worthy of you doing that to me. Have you be forced to lay your hands on a disgusting creature like me... I... I can’t even imagine doing something so horrible, Hajime.”

                “You’re not listening to me. I _want_ to do it. The whole worth argument is dumb.” He breathed, completely and entirely unsure of how to get his point across to someone like Nagito. Finally, he got an idea. He leaned closer to Nagito, gripping his jaw. “It would _turn me on_ immensely to get you off. Okay?” He watched the sudden struggle on Nagito’s face. Punish and torture himself or please Hajime. The only two things that brought any pleasure to Nagito and he was being forced to decide between the two.

                “I...I... I really don’t understand why you would want to.”

                “Well I do.”

                Nagito hesitated visibly, before he nodded shakily. “Okay... Okay, but I promise you, Hajime, I’m nothing to get excited over. I know I’ll be a disappointment to you, completely. I apologize in advance.”

                To avoid rolling his eyes, Hajime pressed his face into Nagito’s neck, letting his hands explore the expanse of pale skin under Nagito’s clothes. His breath hitched audibly and one of his hands grasped at Hajime softly. Hajime directed him slowly to the living room couch. He pulled off Nagito’s shirt and bit his newly bare shoulder. “ _Ah_ \- Hajime, are you really sure you want to do this?” He panted, the grip on Hajime’s arm suddenly much stronger.

                “ _Yes_ , Nagito. Calm down.” Hajime sighed, hands brushing each delicate rib on Nagito’s side. For the first time since they’d started messing around like this, Hajime actually felt an urge to kiss him. They hadn’t kissed since the time Nagito had spent the night. Hajime had been scared it would make the relationship too... serious. Put a label on the dangerous little line they’d been walking. Instead, he just undid Nagito’s pants, and let his hand graze the already hard member. Nagito let out a low whine at the contact, a hand flitting to his face so he could bite down on his knuckle to try and mask the eager sounds. Hajime would’ve been 99% sure he was faking it as some sort of ego boost for him, but the front of his boxers was already damp with precome and Hajime didn’t think it would be easy to fake the full body shivers Nagito had.

                He hadn’t expected Nagito to let him get this far and his mind was switching from what he’d rehearsed in his head to autopilot, which _really_ worried him. He didn’t know how well he could trust auto-pilot Hajime Hinata. He gripped Nagito again, starting to stroke him slowly until the friction made Nagito jump about a foot in the air. “Just calm down, everything’s fine. You’re way too worked up.” When he’d started the sentence, it had been simply about how jittery and jumpy Nagito was being, but by the time Hajime finished it, he was realizing he was talking about sex, too. Nagito was _way_ too worked up for someone who’d barely even been touched.

                “S-Sorry Hajime.” He mumbled, eyes closing and eyebrows drawing down like he was making a conscious effort to calm down. However, he still jumped and moaned when Hajime picked up the pace with his hand. Hajime let out a sound that was closer to a growl than he thought he could’ve managed, and pinned Nagito’s hips down with his forearms. Nagito was quickly coming undone. His pale skin had flushed a brilliant red and he was gasping quiet breaths between small moans. Even his eyes seemed to grow a shade darker and his lashes were covering them almost halfway like a seductive painting, more than real life. Hajime gripped his hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck. He really did want to kiss it. “Ha-Hajime, _wait_ , I _ah-ah_ , I don’t want to... on your... couch.” Nagito’s voice was breaking up the moans, making a barely comprehensible mess of a sentence, but Hajime understood him and just shook his head.

                “It’s fine, I don’t care.”

                “Hajime _please_ , you shouldn’t have to ah, uh clean up after... after someone as worthless as I am.”

                “I said it’s fine.” He was getting frustrated. Nagito opened his mouth like he was going to refute Hajime again, but all that came out was a startled moan as his eyes went wide. Nagito came in Hajime’s hand, trembling hard. His eyes closed and he leaned into Hajime, head resting on his shoulder like he was in some part of Heaven before his eyes snapped back open and he stared in horror at Hajime. _Great, what now._ He grumbled internally at the look.

                “Hajime, I’m so sorry, I barely gave you any warning and I-I came in your hand and I’m a piece of trash, I’m sorry Hajime, please don’t be mad-“

                “Shut up for a second. I’m not mad at you. No sane person would be right now. Just stay here for a second.” Hajime sighed and left for the kitchen, washing his hands quickly. He walked back into the living room to find Nagito staring at himself in horror like he’d just committed some atrocity, not received a handjob from a very willing participant. “Do you want to stay for dinner? I can help you with cooking, again.” Hajime offered. The terrified look was gone instantly.

                “I’d love to, Hajime! Thank you!” He flashed a smile and followed Hajime back into the kitchen where they started on dinner. Cooking went by a little smoother this time, with far less accidents and near death experiences involved. They ate together and Hajime was proud of himself for managing to get Nagito so excited over some philosophy about hope that he didn’t make a self-deprecating comment for a whole thirty minutes. When it was all over, Nagito started towards the door with a sad expression that was too easy for Hajime to read. Nagito wanted to stay later.

                “It’s fine if you want to stay, Nagito.” He shrugged and Nagito smiled happily, again. They started playing a board game on Hajime’s floor, again. This time, it was Scrabble. Hajime had the upper hand with his daily job dealing in vocabulary (he _had_ won the high school’s Scrabble tournament after all), but Nagito was holding his own. He started yawning towards the end, and by Hajime’s final turn, Nagito was asleep on the carpet, breathing softly. When Nagito slept, he seemed safer. There were no worried looks at his own self-hatred or rattled coughs, just a dreamy, innocent look. He wasn’t scheming or doing anything weird. He was just being human. He was very attractive. Hajime couldn’t bring himself to wake Nagito or leave him alone in the living room. He pulled the blanket from the couch and pulled it over Nagito, before crawling in, himself. He could almost hear Nagito’s voice, “Hajime I’m so sorry you have to sleep so close to someone as pitiful as me-“ He shook his head to block out imaginary Nagito. Hajime’s hand trailed Nagito’s bare arm, which was surprisingly warm. He hesitated before smelling Nagito’s wild hair, which smelled faintly of some flower Hajime couldn’t place. Maybe it was from his shampoo or maybe it was from the flowers in the funeral parlor. Either way, it wasn’t bad at all. He fell asleep to the soft breathing of Nagito and the clicking of his clock on the other side of the room.

                Hajime’s first thought when he woke up was, _I’m too fucking old to sleep on the floor, I think I broke my back, Jesus._ His second thought was _Nagito’s still here_. He stopped the little gasp in his mouth before it could escape and sat up just enough to look at Nagito. He was still sleeping peacefully, mouth drawn in a contented little smile. Hajime felt something in his heart flutter like a butterfly before he could stop it at that look. Without consciously realizing what he was doing, Hajime’s hand drifted from under the blanket and caressed Nagito’s cheek. His cheekbones were more tangible than they looked, and sharper than his delicate face would show. Hajime immediately wished he hadn’t when Nagito’s eyes fluttered open in a mess of pale lashes. “Nn... Hajime?” He said the name like a question.

                “Er... Morning, Nagito.” He stammered. Nagito blinked slowly, his movements slowed by drowsiness and the warmth of the blanket. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Hajime, again, like he expected him to disappear in a cloud of smoke or something.

                “Oh.” He sounded startled. “You’re real.”

                “I, er, wasn’t aware that was in dispute.” Hajime frowned, confused. Nagito took a deep breath, and what Hajime had hoped would turn into a touching moment relapsed into the usual interaction between them.

                “I look atrocious when I sleep, I commend you greatly for being able to even look at me, much less allow a sight as despicable and disgusting as me to be the first sight of your day, Hajime. I truly apologize.” It would’ve been better if it sounded like a spiel. If Nagito sounded like he was saying it because he was expected to or because he wanted himself to. But the words that now hung in the air were as genuine as they came and that made a painful part of Hajime stir. There was a thick silence for a few seconds while Hajime tried to decide _where_ he was going to go with this conversation. He took the first option that popped into his mind, leaning his arms on one knee and making what he hoped was an honest face.

                “Nagito...” His voice already cracks from the frustration and he hasn’t even begun. But he knows he has to say _something_. If he has any interest in even being friends with Nagito, then they need to have this conversation. “Why-Why do you always say stuff like that? I don’t... I don’t understand.” He finally sighs and Nagito just gives him a simple look. It’s neutral and unreadable and most annoyingly, _silent_. There’s no answer there and Hajime doesn’t think he’ll get one. “I promise you’re not anywhere near as bad as you think you are. It... It’s difficult to hear you say this stuff about yourself so often when I know most of it isn’t true.” Hajime waits for a response, hoping desperately that his point got through at least _a little_ to Nagito.

                “Hm.” Is his final hum and Hajime feels a tiny bit of hope within himself crumble and fall away. He’d almost prefer the hum be as silent as the stare was. It’s Nagito’s non-confrontational way of telling Hajime that he doesn’t believe him nor will he ever. He sits back and falters, trying to decide his next move. Trying to have a conversation with Nagito is like the most complex chess game he’s ever played in his life. It may have looked fun or interesting at points, but now it’s been going on ages and he just wants someone to win. Unfortunately, he has just enough passion left in the game to keep from quitting. He wishes he could just leave. He really does.

                “Do you _ever_ plan trying to do something other than hate yourself? Do you even _want_ to feel comfortable in your skin for one second? I’m trying so hard here, Nagito. I’ve been trying and I feel like you’re the only thing that’s stopping you from any sort of respite and I don’t know what to do if you _won’t let me help_.” Frustration has made way for anger and it’s seeping through his voice. He tries to reel his tone back in, terrified of the image his mind conjures of Nagito backing away or flinching at the sudden anger. But to his surprise, when he meets Nagito’s gaze, it’s cold. His pale green eyes are unflinching and unafraid and for the first time since Hajime’s met him, they’re looking _through_ him. Looking through Hajime like he’s a speck on Nagito’s shoe and the sudden inversion in their relationship makes Hajime feel like he just did a loop on a roller coaster.

                “ _Oh_. You’re _trying_. I understand now, Hajime. Completely. You should’ve told me that my personality inconvenienced you sooner so I could have grown some confidence. Then I might be more useful for you.” The words were things he’d say on any other day, but they were suddenly dripping with sarcasm. The way he stayed just a little too long on the end of each word reminded Hajime of a sword, flicking wildly with each new word, just aiming to injure whatever it could reach. “Hm? What’s _wrong_ , Hajime? Do you prefer it when I’m sniveling at your feet? Is kowtow more your style?” His words were acidic.

                Hajime stammered for a second, grasping wildly in his head for any response to what he’d just been given from Nagito. “This is _hardly_ any sort of... I... This isn’t confidence, Nagito. If that’s what you’re trying to tell me. This is just you lashing out for God-knows-what reason.” His words were firm and quiet. Nagito did flinch this time, his shoulders tense and jaw trembling. He stared at Hajime for a few seconds with the wild eyes of a cornered animal, before he stood up and walked silently to the door and left. Hajime found a strange sort of solace in noticing that his knees where shaking as he walked. Nagito left the door open on his way out and by the time Hajime got to it, he was already at his own front door. Hajime slammed it and watched Nagito jerk suddenly through the window, like the sound had been a bullet in his shoulder. He let out an indignant shout, startling Scruffy who yelped and tried to offer him one of his toys. He sat down on the couch, petting the dog idly while he simmered in anger and then turned on the television. If Nagito was going to pretend to be so unbothered by it, then so was he.

* * *

 

                Days passed without either of them being forced to see each other once. Hajime was glad. While he did want to eventually reconcile whatever was left between them, the looming threat of actually being forced to talk it out scared him much more as a prospect. He’d had enough trying to get through to Nagito for a while. Maybe a lifetime. That is, until the new guy started coming around Nagito’s house almost daily.

                He was young, definitely younger than either of them, though not by too much. He was small in stature and delicate, like Nagito. Despite the mess of his hair, he was usually well dressed and annoyingly attractive. Hajime found himself especially loathing the almost malicious little smirk that seemed to flicker over his face every once and a while when he’d wave goodbye to Nagito. Even the way he laughed, a playful little _neehee_ , bothered Hajime endlessly. Who was Nagito to replace him so soon?

                It was the embarrassing amount of time he spent mulling over just _who_ this new guy was that an idea dawned on Hajime. It had been a sex thing. All of it. Nagito probably just got off on being treated like trash. All the little remarks had been suggestions or reminders or _something_. It would explain why he never wanted reciprocation and why the self-hatred seemed to grow worse and worse as they grew closer. It would even explain the sudden personality change when he’d been cornered. Hajime made up his mind that Nagito was just some sex fiend who got off on abusing himself and he’d tried to rope Hajime into it. And then, because of their mutual lack of skill in communicating, they’d both ended up with different ideas of what they were doing was. He should’ve felt relief, deciding it wasn’t a personal thing, but he found himself growing bitter over the idea that it hadn’t been genuine. Maybe just enough of it had been for him to be pissed about it.

                Soon, two months had passed without them exchanging more than forced pleasantries when they had to interact. Hajime was cleaning when he found one of Nagito’s many books accidentally tucked in with his. He remembered Nagito reading it at his house one day and the urge to just throw it out almost got him. But he decided it was finally time to end this anger and he mustered the will to swallow his pride just for a moment. Just for however long it would take to return the book.

                He walked up to Nagito’s door and rang the doorbell, hating how he had to lock his knees to hide his nerves. There was a pause before the door opened, and when it did, a surge of nerves and emotions stronger than he’d anticipated hit him square in the chest. “Ha-Hajime?” Nagito blinked. They hadn’t been this physically close since they’d fought. Acting more on instincts than conscious thought, Nagito opened the door to let him in, and acting on the same thing, Hajime walking in. When he saw the man sitting in the armchair in Nagito’s living room, he felt a different emotion rush his head. He coughed.

                “You forgot a book at my house.” He suddenly felt stupid, standing awkwardly in Nagito’s hallway, clutching the book to his chest like it was some sort of precious heirloom while another man waited for Nagito. He shoved it towards Nagito, who just looked down at it in surprise. The world seemed to spin on its axis and everyone in the house was silent and unmoving, until finally the other man returned it to its rightful place with an amused cough.

                “You’re not gonna take your book, Nagito?” He chirped, like he was making fun of them both. Nagito mumbled an apology, looking down at the ground and grabbed the book. The man seemed to sense the tension in the air between the two and Hajime started to turn away, expecting to be asked to leave in the next two or three second. “Ah, Nagito, why doesn’t he come with us for dinner?” He had a strangely playful look in his eyes, like he knew the suggestion was something both of them were terrified of.

                “I, um... Well...” Nagito breathed, eyes flitting between the floor and the door like he was going to just run out of the house in full sprint.

                “Sounds good, let’s go.” The man stood up and held his hand out to Hajime. “I’m Kokichi. Kokichi Ouma.” He was even smaller in person and Hajime wondered idly who topped between them before he realized what he was thinking and had to stop himself from physically slapping his own face. Kokichi smirked, like he could read Hajime’s mind and started to walk out the door to his car. To avoid being in the hall alone together, Nagito and Hajime walked closely behind him, faces pale and minds running a mile a minute, trying to find excuses.

                Evidently, neither of them could think of anything good so they ended up sitting across from one another at the restaurant a few minutes later. While both Nagito and Hajime were doing their best to avoid the awkwardness that was so obvious, Kokichi seemed to _thrive_ in it, like seeing the other two be uncomfortable was the best entertainment in the world. “So... um...” Hajime started, not sure if he really wanted to ask what he was about to ask. “How long have you two...”

                “About two months.” Kokichi grinned, cocking his head happily. Hajime coughed as he drank his water. _Nagito didn’t waste any time did he?_ He thought bitterly, before he caught a glimpse of Nagito’s face. His eyes were wide and he was staring at Kokichi.

                “He’s... He’s my _lawyer_.” Nagito blinked, like it had _never_ occurred to him that an attractive man being at his house every single day could indicate anything else.

                “Hm? Oh sorryyyyy. Thought that’s what you were talking about.” Kokichi winked to let Hajime know he was _very_ aware that that hadn’t been what he’d thought he’d meant.

                “Wait, what do you need a lawyer for?” Hajime frowned at Nagito, who hesitated. Kokichi finally stayed silent, seeming to prize his job more than his love for terrible antics.

                “There was... a, uh... My aunt is trying to claim the house as hers. But he’s also just my family’s lawyer.” Nagito finally explained, scratching the back of his neck. Kokichi leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink slowly and watching the two talk. He was quiet and small enough that Hajime almost forgot he was there for a second.

                “Oh, erm, is everything okay with that? Can I help at all?” Hajime knew there was nothing he could do, but he hoped the offer was worth _something_ in Nagito’s weird little head. Kokichi raised an eyebrow just barely enough for it to be noticeable, like he was suddenly more interested in Hajime than he had been for the rest of the conversation. Nagito simply shook his head and they were plunged into silence once again. This silence lasted even longer than the others, like an eternity that just kept continuing because it didn’t know how to end itself. Finally, Nagito took a breath and stood up. He mumbled something about going to the bathroom and left. When he was out of earshot, Hajime leaned towards Kokichi with what he hoped was an intimidating gaze. “Why’re you doing this?”

                “Hm?”

                “Why’d you invite me to dinner when Nagito obviously doesn’t want me here? What do you stand to gain from this?” Hajime waited for an answer. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until it came out in a small sigh when Kokichi finally spoke.

                “I like watching him suffer.” His voice was almost affectionate. Something welled up inside Hajime and the gaze he’d been keeping turned into a glare.

                “You should leave him alone-“

                “Are you stupid or just _that_ protective?” Kokichi looked bored, leaning his chin on his hand and watching Hajime with dull eyes. Hajime coughed in surprise and confusion, which made the bored expression deepen. “ _Sorry_ , I should add possessive as a third option. Is that what you were waiting for?”

                “Kokichi, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but-“

                “Just responding ‘stupid’ would’ve sufficed. I don’t need a speech.” Kokichi yawned. “He talks about you every day, Hajime. It’s pathetic, in a cute kinda way. I made the mistake of asking about his neighbors a month ago and he hasn’t shut up since. I’ve known Nagito a long time and it’s sorta sad to see him pine like this. I don’t know what he did to piss you off, but you should get quicker at catching a hint that he’s sorry for it.” Kokichi was acting just as annoying as before, but the ill will towards him slowly dissipated. _Nagito talks about me every day? Kokichi was setting this up so we could make up?_ Hajime blinked in surprise, almost not realizing that Nagito had returned to the table. He looked back at Nagito, eyes wide and hands trembling. It was embarrassing how much grief the tension between them had been causing him, but the prospect of making it disappear was to enthralling he could almost taste it. Kokichi pulled his phone from his pocket, sighing. “Hm. Another affair, really? If you kept it in your pants you could save a lot of money... Whatever... Yeah, I’ll come over to cover it up just wait a minute.” He was speaking to someone in slightly hushed tones. He hung up and stood up from the table. He nodded a quick goodbye to both of them and left without another word, just a pointed backwards glance directed at Hajime.

                “Well... I should probably get going then, too.” Nagito reached for the check and Hajime saw the tiny tremor in his hand. He clenched his fists under the table and prayed for confidence as he opened his mouth to start speaking.

                “I’m sorry.”

                “What?”

                “I’m sorry for pushing you too far. I knew we needed to talk about y... why you hate yourself, eventually, but I started it too soon and I didn’t think about how that would hurt you.” Hajime sighed. Nagito’s eyes went wide and his gaze shot down, staring at his feet. A second passed, then two. It wasn’t until the fifth or sixth second that Hajime regretted his apology. He should’ve known. Kokichi must’ve exaggerated. Nagito had no interest in reconciling. Hajime closed his eyes before he stood up, trying to spare himself any extra time staring at Nagito. “I’ll see you around.” He turned away and took a step towards the exit of the restaurant. A thin hand shot out and gripped his wrist with a surprisingly strong grasp despite the shakiness of it.

                “Please stay.” Nagito’s words were almost lost in the noise of the restaurant and he was trembling like he was out in the cold. Hajime sat back down without another word and waited. He waited and waited, eyes raking over Nagito to try and find some indication of what he was thinking. “I-I know that I’m not worth your apology at all, Hajime.” He started and dread settled in Hajime’s body. _This was hopeless. All of it. I’ll never be able to get through to him and I’m tired of wasting my time trying._ “But thank you. How I... How I reacted to your kindness was... I don’t know what to do when people waste their time on me. You only had sex to gain from me and then you insisted that you were fine with just having _me_. That was okay at first, I know my place and I know you’re a good person. You felt guilty so you offered to spend time with someone as worthless as me. I can understand that, even though I wouldn’t have the strength to do it. I figured I was just lucky. But... And _I have no idea why_ , but it... it started to seem like you were having fun being with me and I don’t understand. I’ve never had someone stick around this long besides my family and they’re...” Nagito took a breath. “I got scared. Scared you were lying. Scared you would disappear. Scared I was bringing you down. Scared you would end up like my parents because you -for some goddamn reason- were okay being around someone like me for this long.” Nagito was speaking fast, like a dam in his brain was broken and the words he’d been holding in were finally free.

                “Of course I liked being around you, Nagito.” Hajime gasped before his brain could formulate any other response. He hesitated for a second, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t spend time with you because I felt guilty, I enjoyed being around you. I know you won’t believe me, but that’s the truth. You’ve known me long enough to know I’m not a liar.”

                “A-Are you mad at me?” Nagito’s eyes were shining brightly in the dim light.

                Hajime thought for a second.

                “No.” Was his final response. Nagito’s face flickered with a smile for a second. Hajime smiled back. “Let’s get you home, come on.” He stood up and offered his hand to Nagito, who took it. He put his arm around the other man, an awkward action with their height difference, and they walked out to Nagito’s car together.

                The ride home was short and quiet and when their houses pulled into view, Hajime made a gesture that he hoped got the point across of _wanna come over?_ His mouth felt dry and he was scared his voice was going to crack if he tried to talk. And he wanted to be cool in front of Nagito and voice cracks were _not_ cool, he’d decided. Nagito seemed to get the idea and followed him to his house. After he closed the door, Hajime turned to Nagito. “So...” He started, not sure where the sentence was going. Nagito’s hands buried themselves in the hem of his shirt and he started to pull it off. Confused, Hajime stopped him. Nagito looked back down at him with wide eyes and his bottom lip trembled. _Shit shit shit. I shouldn’t have invited him over. This was a bad idea. God dammit._ Hajime’s brain was running away from him. He was scared he wouldn’t get it back until his eyes locked with Nagito’s again, and a silent understanding passed between them. _He thought I just invited him over for sex. Is that really how I’ve been treating him or is it just his confidence? Or lack thereof, I guess._ Nagito’s eyes were sparkling and he pulled Hajime into a kiss. It was their first _real_ kiss. Hajime knew the meaning behind it and he pressed up against Nagito, letting his hand rest on the side of his face. Hajime had been too surprised the first time Nagito kissed him to really tell how good he was at it or remember what he tasted like or even register the way he used just enough teeth for it to walk the line of too-much-teeth.

                When Hajime finally pulled away, he saw the tears starting to well in Nagito’s eyes. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay. Come here.” He pulled Nagito into a hug. He wasn’t sure what he was crying about, but he wished Nagito wasn’t a pretty crier because that messed with his brain. Nagito buried his head in Hajime’s neck, breathing deeply despite trembling violently.

                “Hajime?” He mumbled. Hajime hummed in response, letting a hand wander through his hair. Nagito hesitated for a long time, lips shaking against the skin of Hajime’s neck, like they were trying to stop him from speaking. Hajime wondered if it was even possible for him to speak with his lips shaking that much. Finally, Hajime felt a sharp breath from Nagito and the words began to tumble out. “I love you.” Nagito’s voice was barely above a whisper and Hajime felt it more than he heard it. His brain shut down and all he could do was open his mouth and feel his hand in Nagito’s hair freeze in shock. Fortunately, Nagito was talking again. “Please don’t say anything back. I-I don’t think I can handle hearing either response right now. I’m sorry, Hajime, I just wanted you to know. I don’t expect you to feel that way about someone as lowly as me, but I need you to know.” He pulled away from the hug, and because Nagito had asked him to, Hajime stayed quiet.

                “How about we sleep in my bed instead of the floor, tonight? I think my back would like that better.” Hajime finally offered, voice sounding too loud in the quiet air of the room. Nagito let out a short laugh.

                “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” He smiled as they climbed the stairs.

* * *

 

                Nagito was -thankfully- still there when Hajime woke up. As he watched Nagito’s thin chest rise and fall with each breath, Hajime’s mind was reeling over the previous night’s conversation. _Nagito loves me?_ He ran a hand through Nagito’s hair, sighing at the softness of it. He knew Nagito was right in asking Hajime not to answer him, though. If he rejected him, the pain and the awkwardness would be unimaginable. But on the other hand, Hajime cringed at speculating over how Nagito would react if he told him he loved him. The excuses for why Hajime shouldn’t would drag on for at least an hour until they were both unhappy and frustrated. _Do I love him?_ Hajime wasn’t sure he knew the answer. Since Chiaki’s death, Hajime hadn’t dared to love anyone. Too much of a risk. He’d learned the hard way. But Maybe Nagito would be different. He did have good luck, after all.

                But watching Nagito sleep wasn’t convincing him of his stability in existence. Nagito was so thin he looked like he could break if someone pushed him too hard and his skin was nearly as pale as his hair. He looked permanently ill. _Well I guess he is._ Hajime frowned at the thought. It would be painful when Nagito’s disease caught up with him one day. Or something else. Hajime caught sight of the scars on Nagito’s wrists and sighed sadly. He was scared to try and ask Nagito about them, knowing the conversation would probably just lead to another argument about Nagito’s worth. But he did need to ask. He needed to make sure they weren’t recent.

                It was another few minutes before Nagito stirred, eyes fluttering open as he turned to lie on his side, facing Hajime. He blinked slowly a few times before a smile lit up his face. “Hajime.” He murmured, pulling the other man closer. It wasn’t a question, just a confirmation that he was really there. Hajime put a hand on Nagito’s back, hoping it felt somewhat secure or something. They stayed like that for a while until Hajime pushed himself up to lean on his elbows.

                “How do you like your eggs?”

                “Mm, well however you feel like mak-“

                “That’s not what I asked you.” Hajime raised an eyebrow. Nagito raised one back.

                “Hm. Scrambled.” He said after a pause, starting to sit up with Hajime. Hajime put a hand out to stop him.

                “No, just stay here. I’ll be back in a bit.” Hajime had noticed the tired look on Nagito’s face. Nagito mumbled something about how he “probably would’ve gotten in the way, anyway” but he looked grateful when he crawled back under the covers.

* * *

 

                They ate breakfast together quietly, until Hajime had to leave for work. He almost felt bad about leaving Nagito, but the taller man was out the door as soon as Hajime picked up his briefcase. He went to work like it was any other day. He drank his coffee and said hi to the other teachers. He explained how Cuckoo’s Nest is just a really big Bible analogy for the sixth time in one day and by lunchtime, he was ready to collapse.

                As the others talked over their usual lunch affairs, Hajime stared out the window, eyes unblinking and focused on something he wasn’t quite sure was there. There was one name at the front of his mind and Hajime wondered if that had been Nagito’s underlying reason the whole time. Not sex or manipulation or anything else, just recognition. If he’d done everything he had just to take up some little part of Hajime’s brain. Hajime didn’t like the thought, because it implied that Nagito didn’t think of himself as permanent. He wasn’t, but with his luck, it felt like thinking he was might help his chances.

                In all his years of teaching English, the only constant Hajime had been able to find in every book was the presence of someone who was different. Someone who was unaffected by the world around them; entirely their own person. Shawshank’s Andy, Mockingbird’s Boo, Fahrenheit 451’s Clarisse. Hajime had never seen himself as one of them. He was more of a narrator, or at least that’s how he saw himself. But Nagito... Nagito was _different_. Hajime knew with sudden clarity that he had to make an effort to keep that terrible, wonderful, bizarre man in his life.

 


	2. Aimer Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some depictions and references to self-harm, which I know can be very triggering and upsetting for a lot of people, so this is just a warning, in case that could potentially bother you. I hope everyone enjoys reading and that you all have a nice day!

Hajime wasn’t used to having to actually think of Nagito and his relationship as an actual… Relationship. He still wasn’t sure what it was and he had  _ no _ intention of attempting that discussion with Nagito anytime soon. He had learned the hard way that important discussions with Nagito were the sort of things one needed to prepare heavily for. Otherwise, it would end in tears or angry Nagito or something else that Hajime wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with. 

But nonetheless, Hajime was glad whatever it was was now grounded a little. Glad he didn’t have to worry about it slipping through his fingers too easily because there was nothing really holding them together. And besides all that, it was a pleasant surprise of how calm Nagito seemed since the night they’d spent together. He was no longer becoming unreliable at the drop of a hat or letting his emotions run away wildly every time Hajime asked him a question he couldn’t dodge. 

Nagito showed up at the school one day, with a coffee for Hajime over lunch. Souda, Gundham, and Peko were eating with him as per usual. Hajime hadn’t talked about Nagito since the day he’d come to thank Hajime for taking him to the hospital. He’d actually been making a careful effort  _ not  _ to. He felt most of the details of their relationship until this point hadn’t been things he necessarily would share professionally.  _ Yeah we messed around and then I tried to address his confidence issues and we both threw temper tantrums and didn’t talk for two months. So how’s your marriage, Peko? _ Hajime shivered at the thought.

“Hey, Nagito! Haven’t seen you in awhile!” Souda smiled and waved. Gundham raised an invisible eyebrow and Peko gave a polite nod. Hajime thanked him for the coffee and invited him to sit for a while with them. 

“Something is different about you… Maybe you have finally given in to the dark will of causality? Allowed a familiar to place itself in your life at long last?” Gundham’s stare bored right into Nagito’s soul, but he just looked back with wide eyes. They weren’t the eyes of a man who’d seen something bizarre, but more the eyes of a man trying to decipher the best way for him to respond. But Hajime had known Gundham long enough to know what he was hinting at. Gundham seemed to always have a way of knowing these things. 

“Nagito and I are… Erm…. We’re… Nagito’smyboyfriend.” The end of the struggled admission came out too quickly, merging into a terrible mess of syllables. The room didn’t fall silent like Hajime expected it to. Gundham looked smug, like he’d known and Peko seemed indifferent. Soda was squinting like he was trying to think. But Nagito’s gasp was loud enough for all of them. Hajime instantly wished desperately he’d had this conversation  _ in private _ with Nagito. At least somewhere where Nagito’s overexcited reaction wouldn’t be on display for his colleagues. “Actually, I need to talk with him privately for a minute.” Hajime ushered Nagito out of the room and into his office. 

“Well, lunch is about to end, so we should probably get going.” Peko shot a pointed glance at Soda who was making like he was about to follow the two despite Hajime’s emphasis on  _ private _ . Gundham’s hamsters snuck out of his scarf for a moment to stare at Hajime with an all-knowing look. 

Hajime thanked God he had a prep hour and closed the door behind him and Nagito. Nagito was trembling, eyes somehow even wider than they usually went when he spoke where tears had started to spring up. “Nagito-”

“Hajime-” Nagito gripped the back of the desk as if to support himself. “I-I don’t know what to say.” He started. Hajime hadn’t expected  _ this _ extreme of a reaction and he was beginning to feel out of his element. 

“Wait, Nagito, that’s not what I meant.” Hajime interrupted, before he realized how harsh the words probably sounded. Nagito shut his mouth with a snap and averted his eyes. He wrung his hands nervously. 

“Hajime,  _ ah, _ I’m so sorry. I should have known you were just being kind to me in front of your friends. Someone as magnificent as you would  _ never _ be able to gain anything from a despicable speck like me. I am honored that you even consider me a  _ friend _ , and I hope you realize I am not at all ungrateful. Please forgive me, Hajime.” Nagito’s words were shaky and hollow, as he stared down at his hands with an angered look. Hajime could feel the anger being directed like a reflection, none of it touching him, only consuming Nagito in his self-hatred and blame. He didn’t know what words to say and he knew pausing would only confirm Nagito’s rant, so he stalled for time. Hajime pulled him into a quick kiss, grabbing at the back of his hair to try and ground Nagito in reality again. After this long, he’d come to realize kissing was the only effective way to shut Nagito up when he got like this.

“Nagito,  _ calm down.  _ I just meant I should’ve asked you before I said anything. I wasn’t sure we were on the same page, so it was rude of me to say that in front of my coworkers.” Hajime finally pulled away from the kiss. 

_ “You don’t have to be so kind to me _ .” Nagito breathed, like he didn’t believe any of what was going on. Hajime frowned. He let his hand brush Nagito’s face in what he hoped came across as an affectionate gesture. Nagito let out a soft noise that was some mixture of a whimper, moan, and happy noise. Hajime smiled happily at him. Nagito grabbed his face and kissed him again, this time deeper, licking into his mouth excitedly. He was pulling Hajime closer by his shirt hungrily. Nagito connected himself to Hajime’s neck, kissing and nipping roughly into the warm, vulnerable skin there. Hajime took a shuddered breath and pulled away and locked his office door, pulling the shades shut. When he looked back, he was pretty sure his heart stopped.

Nagito was leaning against his desk, shirt pulled to the side and face flushed. His eyes were shining with a mixture of happiness and arousal and Hajime was a little ashamed of how affected he was by the sight. He pushed Nagito onto the desk, pressing between his open legs. He slipped his fingers into Nagito’s waistband, just enough to hear the little gasp he let out. It felt like icy hot fire was searing down Hajime’s spine. He pushed Nagito back farther, about to unzip his own pants when-

“Mr. Hinata? I had a question about my grade on the last quiz.” One of his students slipped into the classroom and Hajime had to hold in his swear. He made a face at Nagito that he hoped conveyed the message of  _ please don’t do anything stupid. I’m not losing my job.  _ And left his office after quickly fixing his tie and hair.

“Oh. Um. Yeah.” He went to his main desk and dug through for the right quiz. He fished it out and frowned. “What was your question exactly?”

“Can I round to a B?”

“ _ You have an F. _ ” Hajime blinked. He had been cut short with Nagito  _ for this? _

“Okay… Um, how about a D?”

“I’ll let you retake later and that can be your final score. But I’m busy right now, so you’ll have to make it work during study hour tomorrow or the next day.” Hajime sighed and put the quiz back. The student seemed unhappy with the response, but turned to leave, anyway. They stopped at the door to the hall and turned to face Hajime.

“Oh! Mr. Hinata, I left my lunchbox in here yesterday, I’m just gonna grab it really fast.” They grabbed the handle to Hajime’s office, where his lost and found was and he froze in fear.  _ Shit shit shit _ . He almost ran to the door to stop them. Time seemed to slow down as they turned the handle down and the door crept open just an inch before they stopped again. “Huh? That’s weird. It’s right here.” They frowned and bent down to pick it up. “Alright, well see you later Mr. Hinata.” They waved and finally,  _ finally _ left. 

The moment they were out the door, Hajime’s shoulders sagged in relief and he opened his office door, shutting it behind him quickly. Nagito was on his knees behind the desk, face flushed and lips parted. His eyes were half closed and dark, his lashes covering what little of them could be seen. His hand was under the band of his pants, moving quickly. Hajime sucked in a hissed breath. “ _ Ha…  _ Hajime. I’m sorry, I know I’m disgusting I,  _ ah,  _ couldn’t wait. I shouldn’t have had the audacity to-” Nagito was cut off by a startled moan as Hajime knelt over him, pressing a hand over his mouth and taking over Nagito’s movements. Nagito’s eyes widened and Hajime was glad he’d added the hand over his mouth so he could avoid the barrage of,  _ Oh Hajime, that’s not necessary, I’m just trash.  _

“Were you  _ trying  _ to get caught?” Hajime breathed in a frustrated whisper. Nagito moaned into his hand, letting his weight rest entirely on him. Nagito’s long fingers gripped Hajime’s arm and he fixed his gaze on Hajime, like his face was the most interesting thing in the world. “Your luck came in handy, the kid almost came in here.” He all but laughed as the grip on his arm turned almost painfully tight. It was easy to wreck Nagito. Almost embarrassingly so. But Hajime always felt a rise in himself when he saw it. Nagito was so hellbent on how pathetic he was, but seeing him break down into something that was pathetic but so  _ good _ , felt like a compromise they were both happy to reach. 

Like always, Nagito’s release came unexpectedly and loud. He was clawing desperately at Hajime’s forearm and Hajime had to use all his determination to not lift his hand for even just a moment to hear the sweet sounds that he knew would fill the room. But the little piece of Hajime that hadn’t thrown away his common sense was reminding him that  _ he was in a school _ , where  _ children _ learned, and he  _ really _ would prefer to keep his job and not be labelled a sex offender. Nagito’s eyes flashed between emotions, like even he couldn’t keep up with himself when his brain was focused on his orgasm. When he was done falling over that mental edge, Nagito just panted in Hajime’s arms, breathing into his neck. “Hajime.” He said his name more than called it and tried to pull Hajime closer.

“No, there’s not enough time, the bell’s gonna ring any seco- oh, no, it’s okay. Seriously. Just calm down, we’ll hang out tonight.” Hajime knew it was a dangerous game not giving Nagito enough time to get Hajime off. It usually meant a barrage of pleas and self deprecation that Hajime did not have time for. He kissed Nagito, petting his shoulder in a way he hoped came off as affectionate, not weird. 

“Hm. If you’re sure, Hajime.”

“Yep. One hundred percent.” He nodded hastily, helping Nagito up and handing him a tissue. They said quick goodbyes and Hajime settled down behind his desk, hoping the terrible angle he was at would hide the fact he was still half hard when his students came in. After a few minutes, the first ones filtered in. They were the teacher’s pets. At first, Hajime had been bent on not just liking them like all the other teachers did, but as time had grown on, he’d realized  _ why _ they were the students the teachers liked. 

“What are you doing for spring break, Mr. Hinata?” One of them asked. He hesitated. He knew the answer, but it was never really something he readily shared with students. 

“Erm, a roadtrip. How about you?” He listened to the student discuss their European tour in great detail why he sorted papers and prepared for class. 

“Oh, and we’re going with some friends because things are always better with someone else, y’know?” The student shrugged and a terrible, horrendous idea flashed through Hajime’s mind. He tried  _ so hard  _ to tell his mind to shut the fuck up, but God knew how often his mind listened to him. Instead, he found himself planning the conversation on his drive home. Trying to create plans for every different facet of self deprecation was proving itself very difficult. 

When he finally pulled in, he saw another car pulled into Nagito’s driveway and he waited. He knew the drill. More families who’d lost loved ones. That  _ was _ Nagito’s livelihood, after all. Hajime waited until the family left and then walked briskly to Nagito’s front door, rapping on it lightly. The door swung open to reveal Nagito, who looked utterly unsurprised to see Hajime this soon after school got out. “Ah, Nagito, erm, I had a question for you.”

“Alright. Come on in.” Nagito said lightly, opening the door wider. They both went to the living room. Hajime sat down first, mind still reeling with trying to figure out how he was going to do this. “Um, how has business been? I mean, could you take time off?”

“Hm. I suppose. I just never have a reason to.”

“You don’t like vacations?” Hajime blinked at Nagito’s blank expression.

“Why do you ask, Hajime?” Nagito narrowed his eyes. In anyone else, Hajime would have taken his sudden turn in expression as a bad sign, but in someone as unpredictable as Nagito, he wasn’t sure. 

“I’m er, just going on Spring Break soon. Just thought it would be a nice conversation topic.” Hajime trailed off, staring at his hands to avoid whatever look he knew Nagito was probably giving him. 

“Well I hope Hajime’s trip is beautiful and sunny and he isn’t killed!” Nagito smiled warmly.  _ What the everliving fuck does he mean ‘hope he isn’t killed?’ What the fuck. I shouldn’t even be asking him, what was I thinking? _ But he took a deep breath and continued. 

“Well I was wondering if you would be interested in coming with me. It’s just a roadtrip, but I thought it might be a nice way to spend some time together.” He hated the fact that he was nervous. He shouldn’t feel nervous in front of  _ Nagito Komaeda _ of all people but there he was, acting like a middle schooler asking their crush to sit with them at lunch. Nagito stayed silent, staring at Hajime with wide eyes.  _ He doesn’t want to and his weird little brain is trying to tell me that without hurting my feelings. Shit.  _ Hajime panicked. “Uh, er, it’s just to Colorado. I go every year. But I know you probably have a lot of work to do here, so, um, yeah. Just thought I’d offer. Alright. Yeah, I’m gonna leave now.” Hajime stood up, but stopped at Nagito’s expression. He was staring down at his hands, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

“You’re… Inviting….  _ Me? _ ” He asked, still watching his hand. Hajime just nodded. Despite not even glancing up, Nagito seemed to see the gesture somehow. His mouth twitched. “I know I’m probably reacting wildly inappropriately, Hajime. I apologize profusely. I… No one’s ever invited me on vacation with them, before.” He mumbled, stumbling over his words a bit.

“Wait, really?” Hajime blinked. 

“Ha.” There was one of Nagito’s bitter laughs, like a mixture of laughing at himself and some terrible inside joke Hajime wasn’t a part of. “I wasn’t exactly popular in high school or college, Hajime. In fact, you’re probably my first friend who hangs out with me on their own accord!” Nagito smiled brightly up at Hajime. Hajime felt his expression soften and he sighed. 

“Well there firsts for everything. We leave in a week. Have you ever been to Colorado?”

“Ah, yes! Many times! My family used to ski at Vail. Do you enjoy skiing, Hajime?”

“Not particularly.” 

“Well, then may I ask why you’re going to Colorado?” Nagito tilted his head, but Hajime frowned.

“You’re being even more overly polite than usual, what’s wrong?” He asked and watched for whatever emotions would flicker over Nagito’s face. He found the other man’s microexpressions to be much more telling than anything that ever came out of his mouth. Nagito looked to the side with a slight smile that seemed to have almost the opposite sentiment of a smile and rubbed his hands over the side of the chair. 

“I’m just trying to make sure that you don’t want to rescind your kind offer, Hajime.” Nagito shook his head. Hajime did his best to tell Nagito that the offer was a permanent one, but the idea seemed to just bounce off his head like a rubber ball. 

* * *

 

A week passed and Hajime packed carefully. Being much more careful than usual in what he brought. He grabbed every first aid kit in his house, figuring that Nagito would find some way to injure himself no matter how safe Hajime tried to make the trip. He’d left Scruffy with Gundham, figuring that was his safest bet. A little part of Hajime was nervous about Nagito finding out the true nature of his trip. How he’d react. He shook the thought from his head and found himself at Nagito’s house, ringing the doorbell. Nagito answered immediately.

“Good morning, Hajime!” He smiled brightly, pulling his suitcase behind him. 

“Er, hi Nagito. Ready to go?”

“I’ve been packed for the last three days!” His smile was still just as big and bright, but Hajime didn’t get the feeling it was one of his forced ones. He just let out an awkward laugh and moved to the side for Nagito to walk past him to the car. 

Hajime had been nervous about the drive. Not because they were going to be on mountain roads, but because he wasn’t sure what him and Nagito would even talk about for that long. He immediately turned the radio on to avoid conversation. Nagito didn’t seem to mind, just stayed quiet and pleasant in the passenger seat. An hour passed with no conversation and no awkward lulls, so Hajime took a breath and turned the radio down. “Erm, we’ll have to stop at a hotel tonight and finish the trip tomorrow. Just ‘cause I don’t think we can make the whole trip in a night.”

“Ah! How terrible of me, I haven’t even offered to drive! Hajime, I-”

“Even with two drivers, we’d still need to stop. It’s not a big deal. Besides, once we get into mountain areas, I’d prefer to drive if that’s alright.” Hajime leaned closer to the steering wheel. “And um, there’s something I wanted to talk with you about.” Hajime inwardly groaned when Nagito’s eyes went wide and he shuffled forward in his seat. He hadn’t wanted this to be a big deal.

“Hajime, I understand why you would want to be done with me completely. However, if you would do me the mercy of leaving me somewhere with a gas station where I could call a taxi, I would be forever grateful. However, there’s nothing I could do to stop you from just leaving me on the side of the road.” Nagito trailed off, biting his lip and watching Hajime. Hajime sighed heavily and took a breath. 

“That’s not at all what I was going to say, Nagito, get a hold of yourself.” He started, waiting to continue until he saw Nagito’s posture relax a little. “I was just going to say that this trip is something very personal for me. I… I don’t want to explain it. I don’t really know how to. But I just thought I should warn you that I might not be… Myself for all of this.” 

“Thank you for trusting me and allowing me a glimpse into your personal life, Hajime. I’m truly honored.” Nagito said after a pause, staring out the window. His fingers on the arm rest twitched in time with a small frown and Hajime glanced at him for a second before returning his eyes to the road. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I hope that my being here doesn’t… Make this experience unpleasant for Hajime. I know that I will probably do something to make your trip a terrible one and I hope you’ll be able to forgive me.” Nagito’s voice was quiet and he continued looking out the window. 

“No, well-” Hajime paused, unsure how to say what he had been thinking and even more unsure if he really wanted to. “I brought you with because I thought that it might, um, good for me? I don’t know what I’m saying. I just mean, you’re good with um… Just forget it. Never mind.” Hajime frowned, wishing he would have just never spoken. Nagito made a noise like he was choking and Hajime almost pulled the car over. “Shit, are you okay?” He asked in a panicked voice.

“Y-you thought my presence could be…  _ good _ for you?” Nagito’s voice faltered and dipped in pitch as he spoke, like he was struggling to get the words out. 

“Y-yeah. I mean, you’re kinda crazy,”  _ really crazy  _ Hajime’s internal dialogue cut in. “But you calm me down. And I’ve seen you with all the people at your house, so I know I’m not the only one.” Hajime waited in the following silence for a full thirty seconds before he started to wonder what he’d said wrong to piss of Nagito, when a small voice piped up next to him.

“Thank you, Hajime.” He mumbled, sounding like those two words were the only ones he would be able to manage. Hajime just nodded and turned the radio on again. 

* * *

Four hours later, they arrived at a hotel that Hajime decided was close enough to halfway and they pulled in. Hajime sent Nagito to check in while he grabbed their bags. They got to their room and set down their bags and Hajime turned to Nagito. “Do you wanna swim? Or something?” He offered with a shrug. Nagito nodded and dug through his suitcase for swim trunks. Hajime ducked into the bathroom to change and when he walked out, Nagito was still partially naked, pulling on his swimsuit. Hajime blinked.  _ Well I guess it’s not like we’ve never seen each other’s junk.  _ “R-ready?” He asked and Nagito turned around.

“Yep!” He smiled. Hajime realized slowly that he’d only ever seen Nagito shirtless once, before.  Their first little rendez-vous had involved a boxer-clad Hajime, but a clothed Nagito. And every following incident had been comprised of Nagito still wearing a shirt except for the first time Hajime had convinced him to let him get him off. And that time… Hajime had been a little distracted. Nagito was pale, but Hajime had guessed as much. He was pointy, from where his bones poked through his skin. Nagito was even slighter than Hajime had thought, and more delicate. Nevertheless, he was attractive. In a weird heroin-chic kinda way. 

They walked to the pool together, with Nagito chatting away about subjects Hajime had no knowledge or care for, but he listened, anyway. He nodded along until they reached the pool door and he pushed it open. It was empty and the humidity hung thick in the air. Hajime waded into the pool and then looked up at Nagito. “... Are you gonna get in?”

“Hm. It looks cold.” Nagito hesitated, taking a step closer to the pool, but only poking his toe in. 

“Well, most pools are until you get used to them.” Hajime frowned. Usually Nagito just did what was expected of him. Nagito’s mouth twitched slightly and he sat down at the edge, just enough to let his feet in.

“I’m scared of catching a cold.”

“I have cold medicine.”

“I-I… I’m sorry to inconvenience you, Hajime. But, um, my doctor told me I can’t catch colds.” Nagito’s mouth was drawn in a tight, worried line. Hajime swore under his breath.

“Shit, Nagito, I didn’t even think. Is the hot tub okay?” He started to climb out of the pool. Nagito’s eyes lit up.

“Are you sure, Hajime? You looked like you were having a lot of fun in the pool.”  _ I literally just walked into it but okay, sure Nagito.  _ He simply nodded in response and walked over to the hot tub, stepping in slowly. It was much hotter now that he’d been in the pool. Nagito just got right in and sat down at one end, watching Hajime with an expression that was almost amused. Hajime took that as incentive to just step right to the last step. He sat next to Nagito. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, Nagito was flushed pink. 

“Er, are you sure you can handle the hot tub? You’re already getting kinda red.” Hajime frowned, putting a hand to Nagito’s cheek.  _ He doesn’t  _ feel  _ hot. _ Nagito laughed lightly.

“How kind of you to worry about me, Hajime! I just get like this because I’m so pale and sickly looking!” His words held their weight but he said it so casually that Hajime almost looked over it. Nagito saw emotion flash across Hajime’s face and he panicked. He ducked under the water, completely, and came back up with wet hair. His face was an even darker pink. “See?” He lifted his arms out of the water, too, trying to further show the red tinge his skin was taking on. Hajime smoothed Nagito’s hair back, away from his face. Without the distraction of his mess of hair, Nagito’s sunken eyes looked even bigger and brighter. Hajime pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah, alright, I believe you.” He sighed, noticing Nagito had turned red and he was fairly sure it wasn’t from the water. “Hey, so what were you like in high school? Getting ready for the trip was the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about it.” Hajime leaned back into one of the jets. He’d expected the bitter laugh, so he wasn’t as bothered when it came from Nagito. Nagito dragged his hands through the water, watching them intently and frowning. 

“Hm. I went to a special school.” Nagito started.  _ A school for crazy people? How have I not heard this before? It would explain a lot of things.  _ “Because I did really well on tests. I wasn’t very smart, though. Tests are just about luck. You’ll pass most tests even if you guess all C, and if you trust your luck enough to branch out from there, then they think you’re smart. But I could only pretend so long. Every other student was amazing. Ha, I worshipped them. They were like Gods on Earth.” Nagito shivered slightly despite the heat of the hot tub. “I always felt like a… A fake. A thief, stealing off the talents of the others. I think they felt that way, too. I had a few friends but we all kept to ourselves. I didn’t like high school much.” Nagito brought his knees up to his chest, picking at the skin on his legs. He looked back at Hajime intently. “How about you, Hajime?”

“High school was kind of a messy time. But then I joined debate in sophomore year and it changed my life. I was top in state for a while, I even made captain after I turned varsity. It was  _ great.  _ I actually, erm, I wanted to be a lawyer because of it for a long time.” Hajime held back a grin, a flood of memories swimming to him.

“You would make a good lawyer, Hajime. What stopped you?”

“Oh, um…” Hajime hesitated. He still wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt disclosing everything to Nagito. If Nagito knew, he’d… He’d probably feel upset or make a big deal out of it or  _ something _ . “Just life, y’know?” Hajime settled for the easy way out. Nagito nodded solemnly.

* * *

 

Eventually they found themselves back at the room. Hajime jumped in the shower while Nagito flipped through the channels on their bed. He rinsed off and then got out, towel wrapped around his waist. Nagito was watching a documentary about American Civil War medicine, eyes glued to the screen with intense interest. He had only changed into a pair of boxers from his swimsuit and he had one knee pulled up to his chest as he watched. When Hajime exited the bathroom, Nagito’s eyes darted to him with a look as intense as the one he’d been fixating on the tv screen. “Hajime? I had no idea how interesting history was.” There was something off about his gaze, like it had been darkened and clouded with smoke. 

Hajime hesitated, but found himself slowly walking towards Nagito on the bed. Nagito tilted his head at him and licked his lip.  _ He fucking licked his lips what is he playing at?! _  Hajime crawled over him on the bed, until he could see his shadow cloud Nagito’s face even more. 

“Did you know…” Nagito trailed off bringing a hand to Hajime’s stomach. “Chest wounds were the hardest to treat?” He gripped Hajime’s hand and pressed it against a spot right below his ribs, digging in hard. _I have even less of an idea what he’s playing at, now_. “If you got shot, _right here_ , you had an eighty percent chance of death because your lungs would collapse and air would just stop right in your throat.” He placed his hand over Hajime’s other hand and moved it to the side of his neck, where he could feel the pulse tapping under his fingers. Hajime shifted closer, hoping that direct eye contact would solve the mystery of _what_ _the fuck_ Nagito was trying to tell him with this analogy. As he moved, he felt something hard press against his thigh and he gritted his teeth. 

“Are you… Are you getting off on bullet wounds?” He frowned. Nagito just met his gaze with an unreadable expression and shrugged. 

“Hm. Maybe.” He trailed a hand down Hajime’s chest. “Or maybe I’m just getting off on you?” This time, his eyes flicked up to Hajime’s lips as he spoke. Hajime shivered.  _ Fuck _ . He let the hand on Nagito’s stomach drift down lower and  _ lower _ until he reached what he was looking for. He didn’t grip him or fully touch him, just let his fingers graze him through the veil of his boxers. Nagito let out a sound that wasn’t quite a moan, more of a gasp and Hajime watched his chest rise and fall dramatically. “I’m being so selfish and  _ indecent _ right now, Hajime. You should punish me for it. Use me to make up for it.” His words came out like breaths and he let a hand fall over his eyes as Hajime started to stroke him as he talked. 

“I’m gonna grab a condom and lube then.” Hajime cursed himself for how conversational he sounded compared to Nagito’s breathy seduction. Being so sensual just wasn’t… His thing. But judging by the firmness in his hand, Nagito didn’t care much. 

“You want to have sex with  _ me _ ?” Nagito’s smoulder was gone and he almost bumped Hajime’s head as he sat up. 

“O-oh, um, we don’t have to, I didn’t mean to… Impose on you, I just thought-” They’d never technically  _ had sex _ . But he’d just assumed, because they were both adults and they were already doing everything else he could think of. Nagito’s hand flew to his mouth. 

“Hajime, I… You’re much too important to be inside of someone as indecent and repulsive as me, you would only bring yourself down.” Nagito sounded surprised, like the thought should’ve already occurred to Hajime. 

“Nope. We’re not doing this bullshit right now. Nagito, do  _ you _ want to have sex?” Hajime’s patience was thin. 

“I-If it’s what Hajime wants-” 

“Did I ask that? What do  _ you _ want? What does Nagito Komaeda want?” He groaned, eyes closing in frustration. When he heard only silence, he opened them. “It won’t make you ‘selfish’ or ‘indecent’ to tell me, I just need to know.” 

There was a pause. “If Hajime is okay with tarnishing himself over someone as unimportant as me, then yes. I-I would like to have sex with him.” Nagito was looking away, eyebrows drawn tight with worry. Nagito had switched to third person like he did when he was nervous. Hajime reached behind him for his suitcase and then looked back at Nagito. 

“Do you, um, want to top? Or bottom?” 

“Whichever Hajime wants to do least.” Nagito hummed nervously. It made Hajime feel a little better that Nagito seemed to be stressing about their first time together, too. 

“Do you really mean that or are you just trying to make me happy?”

“I mean it.” Nagito answered simply. Hajime couldn’t detect a lie on his face, so he sighed. 

“Okay. Alright. Um, I’ll top.” 

“Sounds good, Hajime!” Nagito smiled brightly. He didn’t seem to have any queues as to when it was appropriate to break out an innocent smile like that. Hajime fished lube and a pack of condoms out of his suitcase, while Nagito watched like it was some exciting program. “That’s really not a requirement.” He pointed to the lube. Hajime coughed.

“Um. Yeah. Yeah it is.” He responded with a frown. 

“I’m just here for your pleasure, Hajime. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I, uh, okay. I don’t even know how to explain this to you.  _ You _ feeling good makes  _ me _ feel good. That’s kinda how sex works.” Hajime raised an eyebrow.

“Alright. Whatever Hajime says.” Nagito looked thoroughly confused. Hajime sighed and decided to have their safe sex conversation later. 

“I mean, you  _ have _ had sex, right?” Hajime’s mind suddenly jumped to the terrifying idea that Nagito was still a virgin and he’d decide that immediately after they finish would be a great time to tell Hajime and then he would feel forever guilty and terrible and life would suck.  _ He did say he wasn’t popular in high school. And I’ve never heard him talk about any exes. Oh no.  _

Nagito watched Hajime with a steady gaze, one eyebrow raised slightly above the other. “Well I hate to disappoint, but I’m not a virgin, Hajime.” His voice was flat and low. There was an awkward silence for a moment.  _ Oh Jesus. I made things worse. I just accused a grown ass man of being a virgin as we’re about to have sex, shit, he’s probably pissed at me _ . While Hajime’s mind reeled, Nagito seemed to finally decide the air in the room was too tense and he left a light kiss on Hajime’s jaw. Hajime took the pointer and kissed him, letting their mouths collide and do the communication for a while so he didn’t risk screwing things up by talking. Nagito’s hands were suddenly pulling off his towel and grabbing at him, making Hajime shiver. Hajime pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes, sitting back on the bed. He grabbed the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers, doing his best not to look at Nagito because he knew he’d get distracted. 

“U-um, is it okay if I…?” Hajime didn’t know where his sentence was going. He knew no matter the request, Nagito would go along, but he thought it was important for Nagito to know he had a choice. The way he acted about sex gave Hajime the dark feeling that there had been a time when he hadn’t had a choice, but Hajime had decided that topic would be breached later. Nagito just nodded, green eyes watching Hajime’s hands with an expression Hajime knew he couldn’t place. Hajime pushed his first finger in, revelling in the small sound it drew from Nagito. He pumped his finger slowly. 

“You don’t need to be gentle with me, Hajime. I’m not as delicate as I look.” Nagito’s voice bore right into Hajime and he nodded, eyes widening a little. That was what scared him about Nagito. He was scared that no matter how rough or insane it got, it wouldn’t be enough for him. And even if it was, he’d never say so because he liked being pushed over the edge so much. Hajime wss scared of hurting him because he knew Nagito would never do anything to stop himself from getting hurt. Hajime took a sharp breath and added a second finger, letting his wrist move faster and deeper. Nagito’s breaths were growing shallow and the same deep red he’d had in the hot tub was starting to seep into his chest and cheeks. He added a third finger, worried they were moving too fast, but Nagito just hissed and closed his eyes for a second.

“I- Sorry. Did that hurt?”

“ _ Hajime _ .” Nagito didn’t respond to the question, just breathed his name, eyes dark and face growing hotter by the second. Liquid fire burned down Hajime’s spine and he wetted his lips. He moved faster, trying to find the one spot that would maybe actually push Nagito over the edge. It took him a bit, but when his fingers brushed it on accident, Nagito moaned almost too loudly. He slapped his own hand over his mouth, eyes shut tightly. Hajime resisted the urge to stick his fingers in Nagito’s mouth and continued, until Nagito was a mewling mess beneath him. He just watched him squirming and grasping at the bed until a sound finally broke him from his concentration. “Hajime,  _ ah _ , please.” Nagito’s voice was brittle and higher than usual. Hajime wanted to hear more of that voice. He leaned over Nagito and withdrew his fingers, shivering at the whine that Nagito let out. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Hajime asked, surprised at his own self control to not just push into Nagito because he was very,  _ very _ hard and even more impatient. 

“Yes, I’m happy with-  _ a-ah! _ ” Hajime didn’t wait for the end of Nagito’s most likely self destructive sentence. He’d heard the affirmation and he was going to go for it. He pushed in and waited until he was all the way inside, letting his head rest on Nagito’s shoulder as he took a breath. Nagito’s breathing was erratic and small moans were tumbling out of his mouth despite the fact Hajime had not even started moving yet. 

“I’m going to start moving, okay?” Hajime gritted his teeth and waited for the slight nod he got from Nagito. He moved his hips once, slowly, before his self control deteriorated and he snapped into Nagito, holding back a soft groan at the tightness. It took a few seconds of wallowing in his own movement and pleasure before he felt like he had space in his head to turn his attention back to Nagito. He was glad he’d waited, because he thought coming so soon in front of Nagito would be the most embarrassing thing ever. 

Nagito was grasping at the sheets wildly, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. He was holding his own mouth shut even tighter than before and judging by the way it was trembling, he was holding back enough moans for the both of them.  _ We just started, there’s no way it can be  _ that  _ good yet.  _ Hajime frowned inwardly, but he was fairly sure Nagito wasn’t faking. Hajime just kept his pace, pushing into Nagito harshly until he could feel Nagito’s thighs trembling in his hands. Nagito’s eyes flew open and his grasping at the sheets turned to scratching at whatever parts of Hajime he could reach. “ _ Stop! _ ” He whimpered and Hajime froze immediately.  _ Shit, I hurt him. Shit shit shit.  _  Hajime pulled out and pressed a hand to Nagito’s face, kissing his forehead. 

“I’m sorry, what’s wrong?” He panted, still recovering. Nagito froze, too, looking like a deer in the headlights. His whole body trembled and he started crying. “Oh God, okay, I’m so sorry. Nagito, it’s okay, come here. What happened?” He pulled Nagito into an embrace, petting his hair and waiting for any sign of a telling emotion on his face. Nagito shook his head around Hajime’s arms, his shaking turning almost violent. 

“It’s… I-It’s not Hajime’s fault.” He whimpered, his words shaking as much as he was. “I feel so  _ guilty _ . I-I’m so disgusting and y-you’re willing to stoop this low to m-make me feel nice and it’s so bad of me.” He hiccuped over a sob. “It’s so  _ bad _ of me. I’m a failure of a human, Hajime-”

“Nagito, just be quiet. For once in your life, just… Don’t do this to yourself.  _ Please.  _ For both of our sakes.” Hajime leaned back from Nagito, pulling his thighs closer to him again. Nagito hiccuped again, wiping a hand over his now teary face. He positioned himself again and pushed into Nagito, closing his eyes and sighing in relief. Nagito let out what could’ve been a gasp or pleasure or surprise and stopped crying. Nagito’s words had struck Hajime right to his core and a terrible, horrible idea had occurred to him. He was a little afraid of the side of him that Nagito brought out. He was sure that was his intention, that Nagito  _ liked _ that darker, more assertive side of Hajime. But he wasn’t sure how much he’d like the turn of events approaching in Hajime’s mind. Somehow that part of himself that revelled sickly in pushing Nagito to the edge and over it was meeting with the part of him that needed Nagito to see at least a glimpse of his own self-worth.

It only took a few moments before Nagito was wrecked again, body shaking in pleasure rather than tears. Hajime knew Nagito’s orgasm was quickly approaching. It was always hard to tell with Nagito, but he was beginning to see it was much easier during sex when he could actually feel Nagito’s body twitch around him and tense up. Right before Nagito could fall into release, Hajime pulled out, breathing deeply. He’d forgotten this would suck for him, too. The pathetic whine that drew itself from Nagito’s lips was music to his ears and he hated himself for it. “Hajime?” Nagito whimpered questioningly. His hands pulled itself to his dick, but Hajime stopped him.

“Don’t touch yourself.”

“Hajime  _ please _ .” He tried to pull Hajime closer, force him to continue.  _ Well he’s not as obsessed with him being selfish so we’re off to a good start. _ Hajime thought, placing a hand on Nagito’s inner thigh and making him cry out. 

“Say you’re not a failure of a human.” He surprised himself with how deep his voice sounded. Nagito blinked in surprise, before opening his mouth, looking distraught. He shook his head, still quiet. Hajime let his hand drift just slightly closer to Nagito’s dick, watching the turmoil flash across his face. He sighed. “Nagito.” He warned, stopping one of Nagito’s hands yet again.

“No.” Nagito gasped, shaking his head. Hajime made a mental note that his self-hatred was even stronger than his need to follow orders. Hajime just hummed.

“I thought you liked having your boundaries pushed, Nagito.” He said slowly, wallowing in how good Nagito looked beneath him. He was red and obviously exerted and  _ fuck he’s pretty _ . Hajime thought. He’d feel guilty for this almost any other time, but he  _ needed _ Nagito to realize at least a little bit of how ridiculous his self destruction was. He hoped it was like glass, where one little crack would let the whole thing come tumbling down. He’d grown to care for Nagito, more than he’d admit, even. But being forced to watch him abuse himself day in and day out was wearing old. This was the only way he could think of to trap Nagito into maybe thinking over his actions at least a little.

He pressed his hand against the hardness he felt and he was pretty Nagito came dangerously close to coming just from that. He watched with a sickly aroused feeling as Nagito finally gave in, eyes clouding and lip shaking. “I-I’m not… A… Failure of a-a human.” He said so quietly Hajime barely heard him. Hajime hissed in relief and then pushed back into him, gasping at the sudden feeling of Nagito orgasming around him, convulsing and twitching. Nagito looked surprised at his own release, a few tears streaming down his face and his mouth propped open in a silent scream. He fucked him through it, coming a few moments later. He tied off the condom and threw it away. He got back into bed and finally looked back at Nagito. He was laying on his side, facing away from Hajime. Silent.  _ Shit. _

“Nagito-” 

“I’m going to shower.” Nagito stood up and walked to the bathroom, without even glancing at Hajime. He heard the bathroom door’s lock click. Hajime fell back onto the bed, cursing himself silently. _ What the fuck were you thinking?! You pushed him way too far. That’s not the way that you fucking help people. Jesus Christ, he’s probably never gonna forgive you. _ Hajime put a hand to his forehead. He walked slowly to the bathroom door and knocked. No answer.

“Nagito?” Still silence. He sighed. “Can we talk?” The water turned on, drowning out his voice. He groaned and sank to the floor in front of the door. He stood up and pulled on some clothes quickly. He knocked on the door again, not expecting a reply and not receiving one. “I’m… I’m gonna grab some dinner for us. I’ll be back in a bit. I’m sorry.” He shrugged his coat on and grabbed a hotel key before ducking out the door quietly. 

* * *

 

When Hajime returned, takeout bags in hand, the room was still empty. He tried the door, sighing when he found it locked. He set the bags down and listened to the water run for a few minutes. He felt ice run through his blood and he stared at the bathroom door. He had a bad feeling.

He’d never asked Nagito about the scars on his wrist. Maybe that had been a mistake.  _ Nagito wouldn’t kill himself over something so little would he?  _ Hajime froze, starting to stand up.  _ I can’t say that with certainty, though. He’s unpredictable. And self-destructive. Would Nagito kill himself? _ Hajime blinked a few times and walked slowly to the door, knocking on it again. No response.  _ What the fuck? Who am I kidding? Nagito hates himself, has no family, he’s unstable. He’s a suicide waiting to happen. Fuck fuck fuck. Oh my God I pushed him this far and I left him alone oh Jesus Christ oh holy shit.  _ Hajime knocked on the door again, this time with more urgency. The water kept running, seeming like it was growing louder and louder until it was  _ all that fucking Hajime could hear _ . He felt his blood rushing in his ears and his breathing speeding up. 

“Nagito?! Get out, right now!” Hajime called through the door. The water rushed in response. He didn’t hear any movement.  _ I should hear movement, right? Right?! _ “Nagito?!” He called again, pounding on the door heavily.  _ How hard would it be to break this door? I could do it, right? _ “Nagito  _ please _ . If you don’t open the door  _ right now _ I’m going to break it.” There was just silence. Hajime choked back a sob and braced himself to pound the door down. 

_ Creeeakk.  _ The door swung open slowly, just a crack. Hajime felt his breath get caught in his chest and he reached forward, feeling his legs tremble as he pushed it farther open. He prepared himself for the worst and looked down. 

Blood was swirling down the shower drain, turning pink as it stuck to the white tile. Hajime let out a noise he would’ve been embarrassed of any other time. Nagito was sitting in his boxers on the side of the shower-tub, wrist extended over his knee with a razor held above it. There were clean, bubbling little red lines dotting up his forearm.  _ They’re not that deep. He’s okay he’s okay they’re not deep. He can’t die from that right? _ “Oh Nagito, oh my God. Oh God.” He knelt in front of Nagito, pulling his wrist to him. “Why?” He looked up and met Nagito’s eyes, but saw nothing but darkness there and was given no response. He swore under his breath and rummaged through his toiletries bag for one of the first aid kits he’d brought. He sent a mental thank you to his past self for predicting Nagito would get hurt somehow and preparing. He pulled Nagito to the sink, and he just followed the motion like a rag doll. He stuck his wrist into the sink and hesitated before pouring some hydrogen peroxide over it. Wincing even though Nagito didn’t. He cleaned the cuts off with some cotton swabs and then wrapped a bandage around Nagito’s delicate wrist, tying it tightly. He pulled Nagito into the room, feeling nervous at how pliable he was. He sat him on the bed and wrapped his sweatshirt around his thin shoulders. 

“I’m not cold.” Were the first words Nagito spoke. They were just barely audible, but Hajime thanked God he was speaking again. 

“I-I know, I just… I don’t know. Sweatshirts are comforting, right? I’m sorry.” Hajime didn’t think he’d ever be the one apologizing more than Nagito. “D-Do you need to um, go to the hospital?”

“I can handle it.” Nagito said flatly, staring straight ahead as he spoke. Hajime felt a sad little bubble in his throat and he closed his eyes, trying to think for a second. 

“How, er, how often do you…?” Hajime trailed off, unsure of how to phrase what he was trying to ask. Nagito’s gaze flickered up to him and he drew his mouth into a small little line.

“When I deserve it.” He said, his expression telling Hajime he knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. 

“Er, why… Why did you ‘deserve it’ then? Because that was… That was um, all my fault. Not yours, Nagito.” Hajime hesitated. Nagito watched him for a few seconds, eyes betraying a sick sort of amusement with his words. 

“It was partially your fault, Hajime. I know my place and yet I stepped out of it. You pushed me to. But I should have had the self control not to. I hope this serves as a reminder to you to stop wasting your time. Although I doubt I’ll ever understand why you insist on wasting your time in treating me like more than I am, I can’t allow you to give up your precious time to try and convince me I’m something I’m not.” Nagito looked away, staring at the floor. “Don’t try to act like I’m worthy of your time. You’ll just hurt both of us.” Nagito’s voice was heavy.

Hajime pulled Nagito into a tight embrace, pressing his head into Nagito’s shoulder, fully aware he was crying like a child but too emotionally wrecked to care. Nagito froze. He just sobbed into Nagito’s shoulder, pulling him closer by the sweatshirt’s comically large fabric on his thin frame. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Nagito. I pushed you so far, oh God. Please don’t hurt yourself. I don’t know, I-I don’t know how to deal with you hurting yourself.” Hajime choked into the mess of Nagito’s hair. He was still frozen underneath Hajime, almost seeming like he wasn’t breathing. Finally, he mumbled something.

“Why would you care if I hurt myself?” His voice was genuinely curious and that struck Hajime to his core. He didn’t know how to react to or express the emotions running through him, so he just tangled his hands in Nagito’s hair and tried to find the right words in his head. 

“I care about you, Nagito. Like, a lot. More than I should. I know you don’t want me to say more than that so I won’t.” Hajime frowned, taking in the scent of Nagito’s hair and skin. _How does he always smell good? It’s weird._ _But nice._

Nagito squeaked.  _ He fucking squeaked _ . _ Hajime _ thought to himself. Nagito finally hugged Hajime back, pulling him closer desperately. He didn’t say anything just stayed curled into Hajime like a cat. Hajime shifted so they were both on the bed, running a soothing hand down Nagito’s back. They stayed like that for almost a half hour until Nagito’s breathing evened out and Hajime remembered the fact that he’d bought food. “O-oh, I, uh, bought dinner. Are you hungry?” He offered. Nagito nodded slightly, eyes sparkling.

“Thank you, Hajime.” Something about his tone gave Hajime the idea he wasn’t just referring to the food. They ate in silence until Hajime turned on the TV to avoid it. When they were done eating, Nagito curled back into Hajime silently, watching the TV with a glazed over look. Every once and a while, he’d press his lips to whatever piece of Hajime he could reach. Not a kiss, really just a way to make sure he was still there. Eventually, his breathing grew louder and more even and Hajime felt his full weight and he knew he was asleep. He kissed the top of his head and turned off the lights and TV. Nagito’s warmth was comforting.  _ Maybe I was right in bringing him.  _

* * *

 

After a few hours of driving the next day, they finally reached Colorado. Hajime had tried to talk to Nagito about the previous night’s incidents in the car, but he didn’t feel it was going anywhere. So instead, he turned to music, again. They sang along to a few songs on the radio and Hajime was surprised to discover Nagito’s voice was beautiful. He refrained from telling him, though, because he feared the reaction.

“Hey, um, we’re about to head into a mountain pass, but there’s a really nice trail around here. Do you want to get out and walk awhile? Stretch a bit?” Hajime offered, pulling over. Nagito smiled.

“I would be honored to walk with Hajime!” Nagito piped up, unbuckling his seatbelt. Hajime glanced over at him. His green jacket was nowhere to be seen and he was wearing only a t-shirt.

“Here.” Hajime reached into the back and grabbed his spare jacket. He handed it to Nagito, who took it with a brilliant expression. Nagito pulled it up to his face and  _ fucking sniffed  _ the jacket. 

“It smells like you, Hajime!” He exclaimed, like a kid on Christmas. 

“Er. Please don’t, uh, do that.” Hajime frowned and opened the car door. Nagito just nodded and got out, too. Hajime thanked God he didn’t have to explain to Nagito why smelling people’s clothes was weird. They walked up the trail in silence for a bit, taking in the sound of the birds and leaves crunching beneath their feet. A sign up ahead said “DANGER: trail breakage” and Hajime frowned. “Let’s go the other way.” He offered, but Nagito had already bounded up the trail. He sighed and followed, keeping his eyes close to the path to avoid falling. Just as Hajime guessed, Nagito stuck to the more dangerous path the farther they went up. When they reached the top, Nagito sat on an edge, dangling his feet over it. Hajime sighed and sat down next to him. “My coat looks huge on you.” He laughed a little.

“I’m sorry my pitiful body doesn’t do your coat justice!” Nagito lifted a hand to look at the way the sleeve draped over his thin wrist. Hajime frowned.

“No. It’s, er, it’s cute on you.” He stammered in response. Nagito hummed a little reply but didn’t respond. He watched his legs as they dangled over the edge of what was basically a cliff. The drop was straight down a few thousand feet to a little stream. It was beautiful but the closer they got to it, the more nerves settled in the air. Hajime felt like time moved too slowly as Nagito’s hips slipped just slightly and he fell.  _ Oh God he fell.  _ Hajime felt time start up again far too soon and he jumped into action, grabbing Nagito’s bandaged wrist and the side of his jacket, pulling with all his might. Nagito was scrambling, grabbing at Hajime until finally the weight lessened and he felt Nagito gain enough of a foothold to lift him up. It had felt like hours, but he was fairly certain it hadn’t even been a full second. He pulled Nagito back up, onto the safer part of the trail, sighing in relief that he was alive for the second time that trip. 

“ _ Ha _ -Hajime.” Nagito panted, staring with a wild look at Hajime’s hands. “You saved me?” He sounded almost surprised.

“Well  _ yeah _ . Are you okay?” Hajime ignored Nagito’s protests and ran his hands up and down his body, looking for injuries or scrapes. 

“Please don’t be disgusted, Hajime. I’m sorry.” Nagito breathed, trying to grab at Hajime’s hands. Hajime frowned. 

“Be disgusted by wh- Oh my God.” His hands drifted lower in their search and he wished they hadn’t. “Are you… Are you hard?” 

Nagito flinched at his voice. The emotion that was so plain on it wasn’t disgust, but it was pretty damn close. “Nagito you could have  _ died _ !”

Nagito bit back his response and looked at Hajime with a wry smile. “Hm. But you saved me, didn’t you?”

“No no no. I  _ cannot _ do this. This is too fucked up. Nagito I can’t keep up with this.” Hajime shook his head. “You’re getting  _ off _ almost dying.  _ Please  _ take a step back and look at how that looks.” He winced at the thought, watching Nagito for any expression of horror or terror that would signify he had any idea of what they were talking about. Nagito stared at the trail for a moment, eyes downcast and unreadable as ever.

“What if it’s not the dying part?”

“You have a  _ cliff _ fetish?!” Hajime blinked back, mouth slightly open. Nagito held back a laugh. He wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate here or not and Hajime seemed to care about that sort of thing. 

“No, unless Hajime wants me to. I  _ like _ ,” Nagito enunciated the word “like,” pulling every pointed syllable out of it that he could. “Danger. Do you understand?” His gaze met Hajime’s and they were dark and swirling, almost startling Hajime. He felt a rise in his stomach and he  _ hated  _ it. He wanted to trample it into dust and leave no trace he ever felt anything for Nagito’s words. 

“I… I can’t say I do.” He stuttered, standing up. Nagito had the audacity to look upset at that, like there was some universe where Hajime could ever fucking understand that. His mouth twitched and he didn’t stand up to join Hajime.

“Are you disgusted with me?”

“No. I just… I worry.” He sighed and held out a hand to Nagito, who took it. He pulled Nagito closer for a second, feeling his body relax for the first time since Nagito had slipped. “I’d never be disgusted by you. You’re not disgusting. Well, usually.” He sighed and let go of Nagito, who let out a startled noise. Hajime worried for a moment that he was going to fall again, but Nagito just stayed still, staring with watery eyes at Hajime. He ran a hand through Nagito’s hair and pulled him back down the path, deciding they were definitely done with hiking for the day.

* * *

 

Eventually, they found themselves at the condo Hajime used when he went on vacation. Nagito talked about how much fun he’d had sitting next to Hajime for a full roadtrip and Hajime did his best to tune him out. He unlocked the door and let Nagito in. “Er, there’s only one full bedroom. I hope that’s alright.” He frowned, setting down his suitcase. “I probably should’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“We’re sharing a room for the whole trip?” Nagito’s eyes sparkled and Hajime had to swallow his regret. 

“Um. Yeah. Hey, it’s kinda cold do you want me to start a fire?”

“I can do it!” Nagito sat in front of the fireplace, messing around with it until a fire erupted inside of it. Hajime sat on the couch behind him, watching the tangles of white hair bounce as he worked on it. When the fire was big enough, Nagito settled between Hajime’s legs on the floor. He started to reach for him and Hajime just pulled him on to the couch.

“You don’t need to do that.” He shook his head, pulling Nagito’s legs over his lap so he didn’t fall off the couch. Nagito frowned in confusion. 

“Oh!” He perked up. “Do you want me to be quiet so you can think?” He asked, tilting his head. Hajime frowned. 

“Er, no. You can, uh, talk.” 

“You’re too kind, Hajime!” He smiled brightly. Hajime put a hand to the side of his face, trying to decipher his expression. Nagito leaned into the touch, making a contented noise. His eyes narrowed and the little wisps of his hair that fell over Hajime’s hand tickled him a little.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course! I’ll answer any question for you, Hajime!” 

“Why, why do you say stuff like that all the time? Like that I’m so great or whatever. I mean, I know I’m just a normal person and you’re smart enough to know that.” He frowned, watching emotions flash behind Nagito’s eyes. 

“You are special Hajime.” He finally settled on a response, though he didn’t seem happy with the brevity of it.

“I just… How?”

“If you were the same as anyone else, then you’d just overlook me. _ Ha _ . Hajime, I’d let you hurt me anytime. I’d even be  _ happy _ about it. But you don’t.” Nagito laughed breathlessly for a moment like something was funny. 

“Well of course I’m not gonna hurt you, don’t be ridiculous.” Hajime frowned.

“I’ll try not to be.” A rare moment of clarity and a smirk told Hajime that his words had gotten to Nagito at least a little bit. They listened to the fire for a while. Hajime watched the flames until he felt Nagito’s gaze burning into him more than the heat itself. 

“Hey Nagito, um, this is probably weird but, er, are you  _ afraid _ of death? Like at all?” Hajime panicked slightly, realizing his words came out harsher than intended. Nagito seemed to pay no mind, just responded with a blank look.

“Ha. No. I don’t value my life very much -if you haven’t noticed, Hajime. I have fears but they are not as realistic or useful as a fear of death.”

“How is a fear of death  _ useful _ ?” 

“Hmmmm.” Nagito hummed like he was thinking, as if he wasn’t the person who’d suggested such a strange idea in the first place. “It makes you better at reacting I think. Like, you’re scared of death, Hajime. That’s why you saved me isn’t it? So you didn’t have to see death?” 

“No!” Hajime choked after he understood what Nagito was trying to convey. “I mean, I’m not particularly fond of seeing anyone  _ die _ , I would have done my best to save anyone. But, er, I was extra worried because it was you. I don’t want to think about ever seeing you die, Nagito. I really hope I never have to.” 

Nagito squeaked again, eyes suddenly surprised. He fell silent for a few seconds, a hand to his mouth. “Well then, I… I suppose I could do a little more to, erm, avoid death if that would cause Hajime less stress.” He mumbled, blushing a furious red. Hajime let out a noise that came pretty close to being a snort and kissed the top of Nagito’s head.

“Yeah. That would be good.” He grinned. “So what were those other fears you mentioned?” He asked. It was rare for Nagito to be so open about himself and Hajime wanted to learn more.  _ Needed _ to learn more. Nagito let out a single laugh, sounding hollow and brittle.

“It will probably sound terribly idiotic.” He looked away for a moment, but when Hajime stayed silent, he sighed and continued. “Even though I know that I am, I-I’m scared of being unimportant. Of leaving nothing behind. I know I’m inconsequential, but the thought of never touching the life of another terrifies me. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. But you’re… You’ve already touched others. I mean, I see you talking with those people who are grieving and I know,  _ I know _ that that touches them. The way you treat them helps them at their lowest point, that’s worth something to you, right?” He shifted to look at Nagito. The white haired man started laughing until he snorted, bringing a hand to his mouth and letting the other clench in Hajime’s shirt.  _ Jesus Christ, what is so funny? _ Nagito’s eyes looked almost frenzied as the laughter finally subsided.

“You-” he panted, seemingly out of breath from laughing. “You have  _ so much  _ faith in me, Hajime. I’m touched, I really am. That you would believe a disgusting, manipulative cockroach like me has any,  _ any _ stroke of kindness that is at all comparable to yours in them is really a laugh. So thank you for the joke!” Nagito’s thin arms were shaking a little around Hajime. He took a few breaths, still seeming out of breath. When he caught his breath, Nagito continued. “It’s because of my fear that I am kind to them. If I were not terrified of the reality of my existence, I wouldn’t look at them as more than dirt. I  _ need _ to be acknowledged so I’m kind to them because kindness is so easy to fake that even someone as worthless as I could do it.” Nagito’s eyes narrowed and his hands twitched. 

“I don’t believe you.” Hajime said in a firm voice, breaking Nagito from whatever tangent he’d been on. Nagito looked utterly perplexed by this idea. “I… Er… I invited you with me  _ because _ of how I see you treat them. I know you, Nagito. You can pretend it’s fake to make it easier to hate yourself but I know better. I  _ know _ how good you are at this, that’s why I thought it would be a good idea-”

“What is ‘this?’” Nagito frowned, eyes searching Hajime’s face.  _ Don’t tell him, don’t open up, he’s crazy. What the fuck are you doing? _ Was contrasting the  _ He opened up to you and he’s been trustworthy so far hasn’t he? Come on, you owe it to him  _ in his brain. He settled for the latter, putting a hand to his head and closing his eyes for a moment.

“Nagito, can I… Tell you something? Please don’t make a big deal out of it.” He waited for Nagito’s slight nod, eyes shining with curiosity and affection. “Do you remember Chiaki? The girl from that photo you asked about?” Hajime saw the recognition flash across Nagito’s face, followed by even more confusion. “Chiaki and I met when we were just kids. We were best friends right away. I mean,  _ right away _ . We started, um, dating in high school. And then we both ended up at the same college and things worked out and you get the picture. You would’ve liked her a lot. She would go off on tangents like you do and she was so proud of everything her friends did and I-I… I dunno. She, er, she was driving home f-from this  _ dumb _ video game thing I told her not to go to ‘cause it was so late, and she went and, and… A drunk driver hit her. She… She died on impact. Her family buried her up here. I-I stop here every year as a goodbye, or something? I don’t know. It’s- I dunno.” Hajime had started talking and now he felt like he couldn’t stop. “I-I was wrecked after she died. I felt like I’d _ …  _ lost control of my life somehow. That’s when I stopped studying law and switched to education. I barely made it through before, and then suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t do  _ anything _ and I just wanted to be done with school. I just needed to start over. I’m sorry for throwing this on you. B-but part of me thought you would be good for me up here ‘cause I see how good you are with them and I… Just…  _ Thanks _ , Nagito.” Hajime sighed, feeling his mouth running dry and embarrassment running wild. Nagito said nothing, just pulled Hajime closer to him. He let their hands intertwine and wiped a stray tear from Hajime’s face that he hadn’t even felt fall from his eyes. “Nagito, I really… I really hope you know that you’ve touched my life, too.” He finally sighed, closing his eyes and burying his nose in the mess of Nagito’s hair. He felt Nagito go stiff beneath him, shivering. He suddenly felt tears that were decidedly not his own on his chest and pulled away a little. “What’s wrong?”

“Hajime… I-I love you  _ so much.  _ I know I’m not worthy to but I don’t know how I’m expected to not to. I love you.” He mumbled through his tears, pulling Hajime back to him.


	3. Needles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post this one! I've been super busy --just adopted a cat, too! Well anyway, hope you're having nice Easters if you celebrate and if you don't, having nice days, in general! Alright, thanks everyone <3

            They fell asleep listening to the fire and talking. When Hajime awoke, he had a sudden flashback to the first time they’d fallen asleep on a couch. When Nagito had kissed him. He rubbed his temples, yawning and trying to stretch the sleep out of himself. _If this were a book in my class,_ he thought to himself as he stretched, _I’d make some bullshit spiel to my students about how the comparison meant something. Like how us staying on the couch instead of falling off it this time says something about Nagito’s stability.... Ha. Who am I kidding? Nagito and stable don’t belong in the same sentence._ He shook his head and stood up, carefully reposition Nagito so his head rested on the pillow, instead. He started to leave the room, but stopped and turned back. He sighed before pulling another blanket over Nagito. _I’m not being sappy, he just... He looks so sickly, y’know? Wait. Who the hell am I trying to justify this to?_

            Hajime pulled on his shoes, left the condo, and got in his car. As much as he thought Nagito could be a sense of comfort in his grieving, he also knew he had to do this alone. He had to talk to Chiaki alone.

            The graveyard came up faster than Hajime would’ve liked. He pulled off the road and trudged up the path until he found the grave he knew too well. Hajime stood in front of it for a bit, just eyeing the dirt and kicking his feet around the stray pebbles. “Um, hi Chiaki.” He finally said, looking around. “I-I hope you’re not pissed I brought someone. I mean, I don’t think you would be, but... God, this is awkward. See, this is why I needed you. You made me slightly less awkward. Barely. But it mattered.” He sat down, ignoring the fact that the ground was cold and slightly wet with dew. “No really, though. I think you’d like Nagito. He’s um... _unique_. I dunno. You liked challenges and he’s definitely... he’s definitely challenging. Remember that game you made me play with you all the time senior year? Like imagine that game, but with weird hair and they make about as much sense to you as a book on astrophysics written in Russian. He’s kinda like that.” Hajime chuckled. Somehow, even in death, Chiaki made it easier to talk. “And um, I don’t really know how the whole afterworld thing works and all that, but er, if you have any say in what happens down here, help him out a bit. He needs it.”

            Hajime remembered the feeling he’d had once Chiaki’s death had settled a little. He remembered feeling like he’d never care that way again. Chiaki had been his big deal and she’d been torn from him and now there was nothing to do but teach until he retired and then die. He’d never banked on letting someone else in. Somehow, he felt like it was Chiaki’s doing. Like she’d chosen Nagito and shoved him into Hajime’s life so that he wouldn’t be so whiny and miserable all the time when he talked to her. Hajime laughed at the thought. Chiaki had always thought too highly of him; believed he could do more than he really could. She’d loved challenges and even more than that, loved giving him challenges. Nagito was the exact person she would’ve chosen. He was like one of her games. You had to work level by level, unlocking more and more until it finally made sense and you got some bit of closure and comfort from it. She would’ve seen Hajime as the perfect person to solve the riddle that is Nagito Komaeda. “You put too much faith in me.” He grumbled.

* * *

 

            Nagito woke up feeling around for Hajime, sighing sadly when he found only a pillow. His first thought was, _Hajime’s finally gotten some sense and decided to leave me here._ But as much as it felt comfortable to believe that, he knew he was wrong. Then again, these days he never felt too certain about what he was wrong or right about. He felt like his reasoning system was on a different planet from everyone else around him.

            After meticulously folding the blankets on top of him and setting them aside, Nagito looked around for Hajime. He was gone and so was the car. Solitude. Nagito remembered something someone had said to him once about solitude being bad for him. He was his own worst enemy, after all. The thought excited Nagito immensely. Being alone with only his worst enemy... what true danger! He licked his lips impatiently and crept into the room Hajime and him would be sharing. Both of their suitcases were set on the bed next to each other, like a couple resting on the bed. Nagito let out a single laugh at the mental image he conjured, before kneeling over Hajime’s suitcase. He wanted to slap his own hand away, but God knew how little self-control he had. _You’re so terrible. Freak. Hajime would never do this to you._ His inner monologue sang, but Nagito just unzipped his suitcase and started to look through it.

            In college, Nagito had studied philosophy. It had nothing to do with what he was aiming to do, but he’d loved it too much to even attempt to study anything else. He remembered sitting at the edge of his seat in every lecture, pen shaking in his eager hand. Even his professors had called him obsessed, _what a compliment for such an undeserving piece of trash like me!_ Back then, Nagito had wanted to know _everything_ about philosophy. He’d read every book he could find, talked about it for hours, and even offered to do his classmate’s papers, just so he’d have an excuse to learn more. He’d been nervous that that fervent, excited feeling would be lost inside him forever once he graduated. For a while, it had been. But Hajime had awoken that same need to care and know and understand in him and every time he saw Hajime, he felt like asking him a million questions about everything in the world. _Hajime’s so interesting_. His inner voice finally switched to something productive and he nodded, as if replying to it.

            Despite the resolve he’d reached in his head, there was nothing interesting in Hajime’s suitcase, but Nagito found it all fascinating. Every little coffee stain or dog eared book had a story behind it and a meaning to Hajime. Nagito hissed in a breath at the thought of absorbing all that knowledge one day. He stared disdainfully at the haphazard way Hajime had packed his suitcase and without thinking, he started folding his clothes, organizing them in neat piles on the other side from his books. The idea occurred to Nagito suddenly that his repackaging would alert Hajime of his “investigation” and he froze.

            _Would Hajime be upset about me looking through his things? People like privacy. Or do they not? I’m not really sure. Would Hajime_ hit _me?_ The thought was like a whip in Nagito’s brain. Thinking that someone as lowly as him could elicit such a strong reaction from Hajime was an enchanting thought. But he wasn’t sure Hajime would. Nagito felt like Hajime’s reactions were complex problems, ones he’d never be able to truly solve or predict. He knew part of that was the deterioration of his brain matter. The little bits of himself that he’d never get back. But part of him often wondered if he would have been able to ever understand Hajime truly. Just the notion of attempting to sent sparks down Nagito’s spine. In his hazy thoughts, his arm caught on the side of the zipper and he winced in pain. He looked down at the bandage Hajime had wrapped around his arm, staring a few seconds too long. Nagito remembered his promise not to hurt himself and frowned. Hajime had somehow gotten the idea that there was any single shred of self-discipline in Nagito’s body and he wondered how he could let him know there wasn’t without offending Hajime. He was never sure what concepts would be shocking or offensive to Hajime and he liked that little game of walking on thin ice. Hajime didn’t tiptoe around him, so Nagito got to. “You put far too much faith in me, Hajime.” He murmured.

            As if it were acting on lines in a play, Nagito suddenly felt the familiar dull scratch in his chest, trying to claw its way out in the form of a cough. He tried to hold it back, but the choking was growing annoying, so he stumbled to the bathroom, grasping about for the sink to try and get some water and wash it away before it could tear its way out of his body. But he had no such luck and a sudden coughing fit made him lurch forward, feeling as though his larynx had tried to step out of his throat and away from his body. The coughing lasted until Nagito felt light on his feet, eyes darting around the room for something that would stay still. He coughed one last time in the sink, watching the red drop down the drain and he forced out a wheezed laugh.

            “Ha.” He started, sounding as hollow as the void of the drain that was eating up the evidence of the world catching up with him. “Ha ha ha... _Ha ha ha ha ha!_ ” He continued laughing until he caught sight of himself in the mirror and frowned in disapproval. _Gravity_. He thought, wondering how he’d ever dared to forget.

            _Gravity. Everything comes back down once it’s had enough of its time in the air. I forgot that I can’t fly forever._ He frowned and looked away, filling a Dixie cup with water and drinking it down quickly. He scrubbed the blood out of the sink. _Hajime wouldn’t like that. Maybe because it’s not our condo? Who knows?_ He thought as he scrubbed the little drops away, humming a tune to himself. The sound of the front door opening broke him from his actions and he scurried to throw away the tissue in his hand.

            “Nagito? Hey, sorry I left this morning. You looked peaceful so I didn’t want to wake you.” Hajime called, walking into the condo.

            “You’re too kind, Hajime.” Nagito crept into the hall, catching sight of Hajime walking into the bedroom. Nagito froze. There was a pause and the sound of a zipper before Hajime walked backwards into the hall, locking eyes with Nagito.

            “Did you, er, did you fold all my clothes?” Hajime asked, frowning.

            Nagito just blinked in response, still frozen.

            “Thanks.” Hajime shook his head and went back into the room. This time, instead of a cough in his throat, Nagito was pretty sure he could feel his heart, beating its way out of his windpipe. _This is a much better feeling._ He thought, before he could catch himself and destroy his selfish feelings. What he didn’t think Hajime would ever understand is that Hajime made him selfish. He hated himself even more with Hajime because he felt _happy_ , and he knew that happiness was something he wasn’t deserving of. He knew that all too well. If you hated yourself before everyone else did, things were much easier. “What do you want to do today?” Hajime called from the room.

            “Whatever Hajime wishes to do.” Nagito hesitated, walking into the room. Hajime was changing, his clothes sitting in a wet pile on the floor. Nagito wondered if it had rained while he slept and he sent a thank you to the world if it had, because he got to see Hajime. He felt his heartbeat increase and more selfish thoughts pop into his head, but he stopped them. _You’re here for Hajime’s pleasure and he doesn’t seem like he wants to right now._ He reminded himself and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to pick up Hajime’s spare clothes. He didn’t smell them, because Hajime had seemed perturbed by that earlier. Nagito laid them out on the drying rack, not hearing Hajime tell him he didn’t have to. _Of course I have to_.

            “Alright, erm, I don’t know if hiking is a good idea.” Hajime shot him a pointed glance and Nagito couldn’t help the little smile that played on his lips for a moment. “But there’s a town and a museum. I think there’s a movie theatre somewhere, too. We could go on a date or something.” Hajime just frowned, deep in thought. Nagito blinked and backed against the wall, hoping the feeling of it against his back would grant him some semblance of being grounded.

            “A _date_...? With... _me?_ ” Nagito wondered aloud. Hajime looked up.

            “We’re dating.” He said like it was some notion that Nagito should’ve understood by that point. Nagito felt the butterflies in his chest and he smiled.

* * *

 

            After a lengthy discussion, they’d decided on the museum. They walked there in the sun, until Hajime grabbed Nagito’s hand in his own.

            “Hajime?” Nagito could feel his eyes go wide.

            “Hm?” He frowned back.

            “I didn’t think you’d want to be seen holding hands with me.” Nagito stared at the way their two hands connected, feeling the good kind of choke in his chest. He looked so pale and skinny compared to Hajime’s hands. He loved Hajime’s hands.

            “Er, this is Colorado. There’s a gay rights flag on like, every building.” Nagito held back his laugh at Hajime’s words.

            “ _Ha_. No, Hajime. Not because I’m a man, but because you’d be seen holding hands with a gross little bug like me.”

            “Stop that.” Hajime grumbled, so Nagito did. He found himself repeatedly returning to staring at their two hands as he walked. The museum was much different than what Nagito had expected when they finally reached it. There was a wooden cowboy out front with the nametag “Old Rick Wolfcreek” and Nagito wondered briefly if that name was anywhere near real. “It’s a little, erm, gimmicky.” Hajime explained, poking the wooden cowboy. Nagito let his laugh out. It must have been an appropriate time to laugh, because Hajime laughed with him for a second.

            They walked around the museum awhile, reading the signs and commenting on the displays. “Oh look, here’s your favorite.” Hajime pointed to a civil war uniform hanging in a glass case and Nagito choked.

            “Don’t tease, Hajime.” He mumbled, but even he could hear the lack of sentiment in his words. At the end of the museum, they looked through the gift shop. Hajime picked up a flyer for old-time photos.

            “This might be nice. We don’t have any photos together.” He shrugged. Nagito just nodded, holding back the barrage of questions as to why Hajime would ever want to be seen in a photo with _him_. They walked there next and while Hajime was talking to the woman at the counter, Nagito was looking at the other photos. He froze when his eyes caught one from around ten years ago. Hajime and a girl were dressed like some sort of strange pirate saloon’s patrons. Nagito ran a finger up the side of the frame, observing it as closely as he could. Hajime looked no different. His hair still even stuck up in the same place. Nagito felt grateful at getting a glimpse into Hajime’s past, but his feelings of gratitude were consumed by something else. Hajime’s smile. He looked so happy that it would’ve been plausible he was taking the picture while laughing at the world’s funniest joke. Nagito let out a sigh. He’d give up _anything_ to see Hajime that happy. Unfortunately, Hajime wouldn’t just be happy with sex or being amused by Nagito. Nagito wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he wanted. He’d never seen a smile like that on Hajime.

            “I kinda like this one.” Hajime gestured Nagito over and pointed at an example picture. It was some sort of... bank robbing scenario? Except there was a small child sitting in the wagon with a bottle of unidentified alcohol while the two cowboys in front aimed their guns at the camera.

            “I’ll be that one.” Nagito pointed to the child. He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but Hajime took it as one. His laugh was hearty and he stared at the baby in the photo.

            “N-No, we’re the cowboys.” Hajime choked out over his laughter. Nagito smiled at his reaction. Hajime got the clothes from the woman at the counter and pulled Nagito to the back with him, towards the changing rooms. Nagito was disappointed they were in separate ones, but he sighed and started to get dressed. As he unpacked the clothes, he frowned. There was a skirt? And a lack of fabric anywhere? Had Hajime chosen these on purpose? It didn’t seem like him. Nagito just shrugged and pulled them on. He glanced in the mirror. There was no shirt, just a cropped vest and a skirt that didn’t look very cowboy-ish. _Maybe it’s a kilt. Maybe I’m a Scottish cowboy_. Nagito thought to himself in confusion. The rhinestones that covered nearly every surface of it seemed a little excessive, too. He left the changing room to find Hajime wearing completely normal cowboy garb.

            Hajime’s eyes immediately went wide and he laughed so hard he snorted and stumbled, grabbing the chair next to him to stay upright. “ _What... What the_ fuck _are you wearing?_ ” He laughed, a hand to his mouth. Nagito felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. _Ah, my pitiful body can’t do this um..._ ensemble _justice. Oh well. If only Hajime hadn’t been subjected to the sight of it._ “Is that... Is that... Are you a cowboy stripper?” Hajime suddenly gasped out, still laughing. The sinking feeling left. Nagito couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up within him, either. The woman from the counter came to see the commotion and when she saw Nagito, she froze, eyes wide and face red.

            “Ah- I-I think I may have, um, given you the wrong clothes. I’m so sorry. Oh my God.” She was blushing hard and Nagito was confused what about. She handed him the right package of clothes. “I’m so sorry. The sexy cowgirl and the bank robbing cowboy costumes are in the same cubby.” She couldn’t maintain eye contact as she turned away. Hajime laughed even harder, sinking to the floor in his fit, eyes shut tight.

            “Nagito, you’re a fucking riot.” He laughed. Nagito smiled and went back to the dressing room, changing into much more comfortable clothes. When he returned, Hajime was still red and teary-eyed from laughing so hard, a grin etched on his face. “Where’s your hat?” He chuckled.

            “Um. It’s... gross.” Nagito stared disdainfully at the faded black fabric. Hajime found this funny too, breaking into more laughter. He put the hat on and they walked to the bank robbery set. The woman handed them each fake pistols and stepped back to the camera. Nagito examined the gun and then stared right into where the bullets would leave it. Hajime grabbed it, laughing again. This was the most Nagito had ever seen Hajime laugh.

            “Nagito... don’t, don’t aim the gun at _yourself_. That’s like the worst strategy for a bank robbery.” He laughed, returning the gun to Nagito. Nagito pointed it at the woman instead and she blinked back at him. Hajime’s laughter continued until he finally got a straight face and they took the photo. The woman printed the photo after they changed and handed it to Hajime. Before Hajime could protest, Nagito paid quietly while he was distracted. “This is a good photo.” He grinned, showing it to Nagito. Nagito felt his eyes widen and his eyebrows tilt up. Hajime was smiling, exactly like the other photo Nagito had seen. Hajime looked undeniably, unbelievably happy. Nagito felt some of the darkness that usually shrouded his heart dissipate, making way for the parts of it that were singing in happiness.

            “I love it.” He said quietly, staring at the photo. Hajime put an arm around him and they walked out.

            “It’s kinda late, wanna get dinner?” Hajime asked. Nagito nodded, pulling himself closer to Hajime. They got a booth and ordered some food. The loud music was making Nagito feel dizzy, but he was still overjoyed from the photo, so he didn’t mention it. “We’re doing the Divine Comedy for my seniors right now.” Hajime made conversation, taking a bite of one of the complimentary tortilla chips. Were they in a Mexican restaurant? Nagito hadn’t even noticed. His head was still pounding.

            “I’ve read that. Back in college.” Nagito nodded.

            “It seems like something you’d like.” Hajime shrugged back, talking about how one of his students wrote her entire final paper about it on her suspicion that Dante was gay for Virgil. Nagito made sure to laugh at the right parts, because it was a good story, but he kept getting a funny feeling in his chest. A feeling like something bad was going to happen. _Maybe I was too happy about the photo and the universe needs to balance it out? Hm._ Nagito thought, trying to drink some water and wash away the stress. When their server returned, he ordered alcohol. _I just need to stay calm or I’ll worry Hajime. He doesn’t like it when I’m not calm_. He told himself, fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Hajime noticed and raised an eyebrow. “Is everything okay?” He asked, frowning.

            “Haha, yes, Hajime. Just, erm, hyper.” He stumbled through the excuse, hoping it didn’t sound as fake as it was. Hajime gave him a weird look, but dropped it. He looked back up at Nagito and grinned a small smile.

            “There’s one of those bar signs above your head, it just, er, it makes your hair look pink. Y’know ‘cause it’s white?” Hajime chuckled. Nagito looked up to see a neon lighted sign of a sexy woman dancing around a bottle of branded Tequila. He touched it and pulled his hand away at the slight burn. “Oh, careful!” Hajime pulled Nagito’s hand to him and dropped a piece of ice from his water on it. _He’s too nice. He’s far too nice. This kind of kindness will get me killed one day._ Nagito’s brain was running away, but he just stared at the ice cube, stammering a thanks.

            There was a small moment of silence before Hajime leaned back in the booth, looking away. “Er, thanks for making me laugh so hard earlier. That’s probably the most I’ve laughed in ages. I know I already said this, but I think it was a good idea bringing you here. Um. You’re good at... Good at keeping my mind busy, I guess.” Hajime tripped on his words but didn’t fall, just looked up at Nagito with one of those looks that scared Nagito so much. The looks that meant Hajime was hoping Nagito understood something. They scared him because usually he didn’t. But it felt so good to be scared. But as Nagito tried to formulate a response, the dormant part of his brain decided to decode Hajime’s words and he gasped out a small noise. _I keep his mind busy?_ Nagito echoed with wide eyes. It was hard for Nagito to remember that not everyone thought the same way he did, and in his twisted little head, anything that kept you on your toes was something beautiful. Something worth spending time on. Nagito’s fingernails dug into the bandage on his wrist under the table. _You’re nothing to waste time on, but... it’s so kind of Hajime to even tell me something like that._

            Hajime laughed at the little noise Nagito made and patted his head affectionately. Their food arrived and they started eating. Nagito’s nervous feeling came back so he swallowed down some of the tropical, ridiculous drink the waiter had brought him. As he set the glass down, something stabbed through his chest, stealing his breath and letting the pain of it bleed out inside of him. He set the drink down too hard, spilling it a little and whimpering at the pain. Hajime’s eyes shot up and his look told Nagito that he’d bound around the table if he had to. “I’m f-fine.” Nagito shook his head, rubbing where it hurt on his chest, trying to be inconspicuous about it. Hajime’s eyes narrowed.

            “You’re a bad liar.” _Ah, he’s so honest._ Nagito’s mind reeled, looking for any way to distract. They were having such a nice night. He wasn’t going to ruin it like he always did.

            “Ah, er, Kokichi’s a great liar! Absolutely splendid! He lies so often that I really think it’s a talent!” Nagito said too quickly, hands talking as much as he did.

            “Well, he’s a lawyer isn’t he?” Hajime raised an eyebrow. “Hey, how is everything with that going, anyway? Is your house still in danger?”

            “I don’t... I don’t think so. I mostly just let Kokichi handle it. I’m not nearly smart enough to understand the jargon or the ideas!” Nagito smiled. His distraction had worked. Hajime drummed his fingers along the table and they continued talking and eating while the world spun around Nagito. Every once and a while, the pain would return and he’d take a quick bite of food to cover his winces. He felt like the music in the restaurant was growing louder and louder, shouting in his ears until he could barely hear Hajime, just watch his lips move and nod along. The way everything was spinning was starting to make him dizzy, but he ignored it as Hajime stood up and handed Nagito his coat. As they walked out the door, Nagito’s breath caught in his throat. He tried to force it out or gasp for more, but nothing came. Just emptiness. He grimaced and did his best to keep enough distance behind Hajime that he wouldn’t notice him holding his breath. Things were starting to get dark in the corners of his vision, like black mold was creeping over his eyes. Hajime turned back and stared at him.

            “Na... y... okay?” Hajime said something, but Nagito could only make out a few of the syllables. He wanted to tell Hajime that everything was just fine and dandy, but he couldn’t get enough air to say it. Hajime started to walk over to him, eyes firm and nervous. _Why is he nervous over something as insignificant as me? He should just leave me and go back to the condo. I’ll let this pass and then come back. He doesn’t need to bother with me._ Nagito felt guilty. The guilt turned black and so did Hajime’s face, until everything around him seeped into one color and he collapsed on the cement, feeling his head hit it with a sick _smack_. Nagito blinked once and then closed his eyes.

* * *

 

            “Shit, shit shit shit!” Hajime muttered, running the last few feet to Nagito and propping him up. He put his hand by his mouth, but felt no breath and swore again. He thanked his lucky stars that Nagito was so light and picked him up, running back into the restaurant. “Shit, someone call 911! Now, please!” He set Nagito down on a bench, wishing the wide eyed girl at the counter would type it on her phone faster.

            “Is... Is he breathing?” She asked, shaking a little. _What do I do, what am I supposed to do? Fuck shit. Oh God, okay, um, think think think. If he’s not breathing... CPR! I have to do CPR!_ Hajime did his best to remember the mandatory course he’d had to take a year ago with the other teachers and kneeled over Nagito. He listened but heard no breath. He grabbed Nagito’s wrist, feeling for a pulse and sighing in relief when he found one. _Is he choking? What the fuck I don’t know what to do._ A small crowd from the restaurant had gathered. Hajime wished Nagito were awake so he could see the amount of people who were actually fucking nervous about him dying. An overweight man with glasses pushed himself to the front.

            “My name is Byakuya Togami, I’m a doctor, let me through.” He sounded cross as he shoved people aside and knelt next to Hajime. “Does he have any illnesses-“

            “Uh, lymphoma! And a fronto-brain, er, something. Oh God, I don’t know.” Hajime mumbled, feeling his hands shake as they dropped from Nagito’s wrist. Byakuya pressed his ear to Nagito’s chest and listened for a second, eyebrows furrowing. He frowned. “How long has he been struggling to breathe?”

            “Just a few seconds I think.” Hajime blinked. _What did he just hear? Why isn’t he telling me?! I should-_ The door opened and a few EMTs came in. They spoke quickly with Byakuya and then lifted Nagito onto a stretched, pulling Hajime along with them to the ambulance. “Please wake up.” Hajime said quietly, grabbing Nagito’s hand through the stretcher as they stuck small things to his chest and connected them to larger screens in the ambulance. They asked Hajime questions about Nagito like his height, weight, age and background. He mumbled his answers, unable to take his eyes away from the still body next to him.

            The hospital came into sight and they unloaded Nagito, pushing his stretcher into a room. “Twenty-six year old Asian male, pleural effusion on the right side.” They called as a doctor nodded to a nurse. She dug through a small cabinet and retrieved a needle the size of Hajime’s forearm.

            “What the fuck? What the fuck is that for?” He blinked at it. The nurse seemed to notice him for the first time and ushered him out of the room. He could still see through a crack in the hangings as they continued to work on Nagito. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as much as he wanted to.

            “We’re gonna need to do an emergency thoracentesis. You get the syringe ready, I’ll check his back. We don’t have time for x-rays.” The doctor pressed a button on the bed, lifting Nagito into a sitting position and leaning over him. He pressed spots on Nagito’s back, listening and frowning. The nurse grabbed another, smaller needle and put the two on a tray next to the bed. The doctor grabbed one and stuck it into a place on Nagito’s pale back. When he pulled it back, an orange, murky fluid filled the syringe and he nodded, handing it to the nurse, who threw it away. He connected the large needle to what looked like some sort of jug and pulled more of the fluid from Nagito. Hajime stared, eyes wide and knees shaking. _What are they doing? What’s wrong with Nagito?_ Just like the first time he’d helped Nagito, he felt completely helpless. There was nothing he could do. But this time, he actually had to watch the ordeal, feeling his heart pang every time they stuck a new needle into him. The nurse left the room and found him.

            “What’s your relation to the patient?”

            “I’m his, uh we’re- boyfriends.” He stammered, trying to look over her to watch what they were doing to Nagito. “What’s that... that _thing_ in the syringe?”

            “It’s pleural fluid. Your boyfriend had what’s called pleural effusion. When you have certain illnesses, your lungs can hold too much fluid, until they start to drown you internally. It’s painful and dangerous, but very normal. There was enough fluid that we will be able to drain it completely. There will be some discomfort when he wakes up, but other than that, he should be fine. If he begins to have any chest pain, dizziness, or issues breathing, bring him into a doctor immediately. He may need a pleural catheter.”

            “A what?”       

            “It’s a device that would make it easier for him to... to drain the fluid in his lungs. But he’ll only need it if the issue reoccurs. So far, it looks like everything will be alright.” She nodded.

            “I- Thank you. Thank you. Can I see him?” Hajime started to ask, but there was a sudden cough from the room. The nurse pursed her lips.

            “That’s why I’m here. Thoracentesis is painful and can cause severe anxiety in certain patients, so they’re usually allowed a family member in the room to help with nerves.” She explained. As if on cue, Nagito’s voice lilted from the room, sounding hoarse and pained.

            “H-Hajime?” He faltered. Hajime didn’t wait another second. He opened the curtain forcefully and ran to Nagito’s bed.

            “Oh thank God, you’re okay. You’re awake.” He breathed, suddenly feeling the sweat that had started to turn cold on his back. Nagito’s hands fumbled for Hajime’s and Hajime gripped them, watching Nagito, who whimpered and wheezed out a breath.

            “Give him 5 ml Lidocain.” The doctor mumbled and the nurse obliged, sticking another small needle near the area where the doctor was working. Nagito’s lower lip trembled, eyes sparkling with tears. Hajime ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm him down. The needle that had looked so big was practically impaling Nagito through his chest. Hajime shuddered at the thought. Nagito squeezed his hand with surprising strength, until it started to hurt but Hajime paid no mind.

* * *

 

            Hajime wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. It was probably only ten minutes or so, but it felt like hours as the seconds ticked on. Eventually Nagito stopped gripping his hand so hard and just stared straight ahead while the doctor stuck a bandage over the needle hole. Nagito shivered as he pulled his shirt back on. “I-Is he okay now?” Hajime looked at the doctor with worried eyes.

           “He should be. Unless the problem reoccurs, then come back. Take it easy for the next few days.” He paused and then gave Nagito a strange look. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak privately with him for a moment.” The doctor’s voice was polite and quiet, treading tediously around Hajime. Hajime looked at Nagito, who just nodded, eyes hollow. Hajime left the room and found himself being dragged to a desk where a different nurse asked him questions to finish their paperwork. A few minutes later, Nagito limped quietly from the room. When he saw Hajime, he smiled brightly.

           “I-I apologize for causing a scene, Hajime, I hope you can- oh.” Nagito was cut off when Hajime pulled him into a hug. They both ignored the pain in his back and when they pulled apart they were equally surprised to see wet streaks running down Hajime’s cheeks.

           “Let’s go home, come on.” Hajime put an arm around Nagito in more of an offer of support than affection. They walked outside and Hajime called a cab to take them back to the condo. Nagito sat on the couch, silently, while Hajime rummaged through his suitcase for tea to make. He found some chamomile and started to boil water, waiting by the counter.

           “I think we should take a break.” Nagito’s voice was quiet but Hajime heard it just as well as if it had been yelled in his face. He blinked for a moment, silent and dumbstruck.

           “I- What?” He frowned. He was waiting for the joke but it never came, just a long look from Nagito.

           “I think you and I should stop seeing each other for awhile.” Nagito’s eyes were a dark, bottomless mess that Hajime didn’t dare look into. The room was quiet for a few seconds, time seeming to pass in slow motion. Nagito’s breath wheezed and he spoke again. “When I’m happy, bad things happen. That’s why this happened today. If we don’t stop while we’re ahead, you’ll be the next one to get hurt.”

           “Did it ever occur to you that I’d be willing to… To face that? Because I would.”

           The look on Nagito’s face told Hajime he hadn’t ever thought of that. But he looked away, eyes downcast. “I won’t let you, Hajime.”

           “It’s not up to you to decide, Nagito. Just like the world doesn’t revolve around your-your _karma_ or whatever you call it. Sometimes things just happen for no reason and you have to accept them. Not everything happens because of you.” Hajime’s words were a little harsher than he meant them to be, but he meant them. For someone so self-deprecating, Nagito’s self-centeredness always astounded Hajime when they fought.

           “It doesn’t matter! I’m fragile, Hajime. I’ll die young one way or another and it’s not worth making my loss harder on either of us.” Nagito’s voice was shaking a little, his eyes angrier than Hajime had expected them to be.

           “It _is_ worth it! Do you think I would’ve stopped caring about Chiaki if I knew she would die? That’s a sad life.” Hajime watched Nagito’s eyes narrow and his lips draw tight.

           “It really isn’t. Loving you makes me afraid of dying and I can’t be afraid. I _can’t_ live every day wondering if it will finally be the day my doctors tell me it’s too late. That’s not living, either, Hajime.” Nagito sounded bitter and somewhere in his heart, Hajime knew there was a deeper undertone to Nagito’s words. One that they’d never covered. But the emotions were too high for him to stop.

           “You know what I think, Nagito? I think you’ve spent _so much fucking time_ using pain as a punishment for yourself that you’ve forgotten that sometimes you _need_ to feel it. But if I’m not worth that pain to you, then what is it that you want from me? To go back to messing around and never talking?” Hajime almost snarled, knuckles white around the counter edge under his hand. Nagito watched him for not even a second, a cold, calculated look on his face.

           “Maybe I want to go back to being strangers.” Nagito didn’t hear the words until they left his mouth. He was as surprised as Hajime when they registered in his brain like little lights on a circuit. The room fell so silent that it almost hurt. Hajime stared, wide-eyed at Nagito, the wetness in his eyes and the red spreading from his cheeks betrayed how hurt he was. Nagito wanted to take the words back. He’d do anything to take them back. Stop himself. _End_ himself. There was another few seconds of painful silence. Both men stared at each other, eyes wide. Nagito whimpered. His hands covered his mouth, like he was trying to stop the words even though it was too late. When his hands realized their tardiness, they crawled to his neck. He felt his own pulse beneath his fingers and he _squeezed_ as hard as he could until he couldn’t breathe, shaking. He wondered how much effort it would take to end it that way. If he’d have the determination to do it. Punish himself for hurting Hajime.

           Before he could find out, Hajime crossed the room and tackled him, pulling his hands away from his neck. Nagito resisted, scrambling beneath him until they both fell to the floor. The pain in his back shocked him enough for him to soften his grip just enough for Hajime to grip both his wrists and pull them away. Nagito felt tears in his eyes. _I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. I’m done fighting I hate it. I hate it so much. I want to apologize._ But he didn’t know how. He just needed the situation to end. “H-Hey Hajime, let’s go to the bedroom, we can get our frustration out there.” He tried to roll his hips into Hajime. He just wanted them to be doing something else. Hajime let go of one his wrists, pinning his hips down instead.

           “Stop, just.. Stop.” Hajime’s voice was broken. “Sex won’t fix you. Or us.” He let go of Nagito, leaning off of him and sitting on the floor a few feet away. Nagito’s tears were starting to blur his vision. He crawled back towards Hajime, until a hand stopped him.

           “P-Please Hajime, I promise I-I’ll be nicer. You c-can hit me o-or I can… I’ll do anything Hajime, _please_.”

           “Please _what_ ?” Hajime sighed, staring out the window. He blinked once and then finally looked into Nagito’s clouded eyes. “Do you know how worried I was? Do you… Do you even _care_ ? I worry about you _so much_ , Nagito. It’s fucking exhausting. Every time I turn around you’re sick or hurting yourself or being reckless. If you were anyone else in the world, I would have stopped worrying. But I can’t stop. Because I fucking care. But you… You act like I-I don’t even give a shit. Like I’m just every other person in your life. And every time it gets remotely tough, you _run._ I haven’t run once, Nagito. I can’t do this one-sided.” He put a hand to his head, watching Nagito’s eyes grow wider and more watery with every word.

           “I’m sorry.” Nagito murmured, staring down at the ground. He curled over Hajime’s knees, because they were as far as he could reach. He sobbed into Hajime’s slacks, until a hand gripped his shoulder. Nagito felt his lips shake as he pulled away.

           “Do you want to… Break up?” Hajime was watching him so closely that Nagito felt like he was being studied on a microscopic level.

           “No, _please_ no. I-I’m sorry. I was scared.” Nagito shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. Hajime just nodded and pulled Nagito back to him.

* * *

 

           That night, when Hajime came out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth, he saw Nagito sitting on the bed, hair still wet from his evening shower. “Nagito. You’ll catch a cold.” He sighed, tossing a sweatshirt to Nagito’s nearly naked form. He caught it and shrugged it on. Hajime sat down on the bed, and to make a point to Nagito about how they were _not_ going to do anything remotely physically exerting for either of them that night because he wasn’t risking another hospital visit, Hajime pulled the covers over himself and grabbed one of the books he’d brought with him. _Tender is the Night_ by F Scott Fitzgerald. He’d read it a handful of times, but not in a few years and Hajime thought it was probably the best of his options.

           “What’s that book about?” Nagito’s voice sounded different. Nervous. Hajime wasn’t sure if it was from their fight or his physical status or the book itself, so he didn’t read into it.

           “Er, well, there’s a man named Dick. He’s a psychiatrist and his wife, Nicole, is one of his patients. She loses her mind more and more and he eventually becomes an alcoholic trying to cope with it. It’s dark, but it’s very… Honest, I guess? I’m sorry, I’m going on a tangent.” He frowned, but Nagito shook his head, watching him intently. “It was Fitzgerald’s favorite book he ever wrote. Dick and Nicole are essentially mirrors of him and his wife, Zelda. It was never recognized or anything while he was alive and most people ignore it for _Gatsby_ or _Benjamin Button_ , but I like it a lot. It’s interesting.”

           “How does it end?”

           “Well… Dick realizes he always loved another woman, who was an actress. Nicole becomes more confident and divorces him. But, a lot of Fitzgerald’s friends disagree with the way the ending was written.” Hajime sighed, setting down the book to observe the cover. “The end is the only part I don’t like. But how about you? What’s a book you like?” Hajime asked, leaning back on his pillow. Nagito hesitated, thinking.

           “ _A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court._ I read it in high school. I remember being amazed at how someone could have both such good luck but also use that luck in combination with a talent.” Nagito dug his nails into the comforter. “Or _Lord of the Flies_. Hopelessness and helplessness making way for a greater good.”

           “Did you read a lot growing up?” Hajime felt the still tense and guilty air around Nagito and himself but he tried desperately to ignore it. He wasn’t going to let this end again. Nagito nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Consumed by the quietness, Hajime spoke again. “Er, me too. That was actually kind of all I did.” Hajime frowned. He was starting to think he’d explode if he had to sit through another bout of awkward silence, but somehow, he survived. Nagito took a shaky breath. Hajime wasn’t sure if it was his lungs or emotion and he didn’t know which was worse.

           “Why didn’t you let me do it?”

           “Do what?” Hajime frowned before it dawned on him what Nagito was asking. “How many times do I have to explain to you that I, I _care_ ? Is it really _this_ difficult of a concept?” Hajime put the book down to look squarely at the other man. Nagito looked conflicted.

“I-I _know_ that you ...care. I… don’t understand why, but I know that you have told me. But- Well, you can care about someone  but still want-”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say.” Hajime stopped him, sitting up straight, unease prickling down his back. Was that really how Nagito felt about people? “Th-there’s really no form of love where you’re… fine with them getting hurt. Or worse. I-I mean, is that how you feel about me?” Hajime was genuinely curious.

“No, Hajime.” Nagito said seriously, without a pause. “I would be upset if you got hurt. But there have been people who I don’t know if I would’ve cared.” He sat still for a moment, staring at his hands. “I cared when my parents died. And my dog. But my first boyfriend went to prison and I didn’t care.”

Hajime coughed. “ _What?_ ”

Nagito looked disinterested. “Mm. I was leaving for college that year, anyway, and I didn’t like him very much. He invited me to my first ever party when I was a junior. I knew what he was doing, but I was curious. Parties are interesting. You’re surrounded by so many people who deserve to be there that they don’t even notice that you don’t.” Nagito took a breath, fingers digging harder into the sheets and watching the way it rippled the fabric. “He was in college, already. He got angry a lot. I think anyone who had to deal with me for that long would. Ah, I suppose you’ve never hit me, though, Hajime.” He smiled weakly at Hajime.

“He-”

Nagito cut him off before he could finish his question with a sharp laugh. “It was okay. I always ended up with him in the end, anyways. He wasn’t much less vile than me, but he was kind when things were good and I… Ha. I wanted that. The parts of me that hated myself could get hurt and the selfish parts of me gained a relationship. If you treated me the same as him, I’d still stay, Hajime.” Nagito finally looked back at him, face too neutral and eyes dark. Hajime shivered. He _hated_ knowing it was true.

“You shouldn’t.” Hajime shook his head. “No one _deserves abuse_. I know this won’t get through to you, but please just… think about it.” Hajime felt himself clench his jaw. Nagito nodded. “What did he… what did he go to prison for?”

“Pictures.”

“Of?”

“...Me. I was still sixteen at the time.”

“Jesus Christ.” Hajime bit his tongue. “It’s been a hell of a roller coaster for you, huh?” He finally managed. Nagito laughed a real laugh in response.

“Well, Kokichi said it’s better than being boring.” Nagito hummed. _He was… abused. Things make a lot more sense, now._ There was a more comfortable silence for a while.

* * *

 

Sometime around three in the morning, Hajime’s phone went off. His first assumption was that he’d set his alarm for the wrong time, until he realized he was on break and he scrambled to answer it. Thankfully, Nagito slept through it and Hajime answered the phone, slipping into the kitchen to talk. “Er, hello? Who is this?” He asked.

“Hajime Hinata? I’m Nagito’s lawyer, Kokichi Ouma, we met a while ago. Is he there with you now?” Kokichi was speaking fast.

“No. He’s asleep. Y’know, ‘cause it’s three in the morning?” Hajime grumbled. He’d figured a call that late would be an emergency, not just Kokichi.

“Okay, good. I need to talk to you. But you have to promise me something first.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and _slow down_ I’m still waking up.”

“Well wake up faster, dipshit.”

“No need to get feisty. I don’t want to promise until I know.” There was silence for some time. Hajime sighed in defeat. “Alright, what am I supposed to be promising you?”

“None of this conversation ever happened and you will not record it in any way or share it with Nagito.”

“I-er, okay. I guess?” Hajime’s better judgement was telling him this was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t listen to his brain when he was that tired. Kokichi sighed in what might have been relief and took a breath.

“His aunt is claiming Nagito’s not… Mentally stable enough to inherit the house. One of the conditions was reopening his grandather’s business and if he’s not legally competent enough to do it, then he doesn’t make the cut for owning his own home. They’ll request a psych evaluation and I think you and I both know how that would go, right?”

Hajime shuddered at the thought.

“The good news is, I have… _connections_ to some psychiatrists to do the evaluation. The bad news is, you also need a community member’s signature on a different document about if their peers and neighbors feel threatened by them etc. But… Nagito has zero friends besides you. Which means, because you’re a teacher in the community and his only friend, you’re the sole person qualified to sign it.”

“And it’s saying _what_ exactly?”

“That Nagito is emotionally stable and not a threat to himself.”

Hajime couldn’t stop the cough that erupted from him. “And it’s… appearing in court? Erm, with my name on it?”

“It’s fine. I’ll predate it so it looks like I had it done as a precaution a few months ago, before you two knew each other well. That way, if Nagito like blows up a building or some dumb shit, I’ll take the fall not you, since I made the mistake as a lawyer. I lie all the time, if I get caught one more time it would just knock me down a few pegs, not end my career.” Kokichi was still speaking quickly. “Can you do it?”

“I, er, I guess. You promise I’m not going to, ermmm, get in trouble for this?”

“With all my confidence.”

“A-alright. I’ll sign it when I get back.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll forge it. I have your signature from your dinner receipt when we met. I just had to make sure you wouldn’t pull something before I put your name on it.”

 _Why the hell did he keep my receipt? Also, how much shady stuff does Kokichi get into? Jeez. I mean, he’s smart, but Nagito’s taking a gamble with him for a lawyer. Then again, when_ doesn’t _Nagito take a gamble, I guess._ Hajime sighed, rubbing his temples. “Why are you doing this, anyway? It’s going past basic caring for your client when you risk your career over it. Is there a reason you’re doing this much to defend Nagito?”

There was silence on the other end. “We go way back. And as a trustworthy-” _Not really the word I’d choose for you, but okay. You do you, Kokichi._ “Friend to Nagito, I’ll defend him. Besides, he’s amusing and if I do well now, he’ll hire me later.” Kokichi shuffled on the other line. “And there will definitely be a next time. I can’t wait to see what crazy shit he pulls that gets me involved. He’s kinda a loose cannon, so good luck with that.” Kokichi hung up without a goodbye. Hajime put his phone down, rubbing his eyes tiredly and sitting on the couch. His life hadn’t been this exciting before. It felt like every hour brought some new event. It seemed like ages ago that his student had called him boring. _Oh if he could see me now_. Hajime thought bitterly.

“Hajime?” Nagito’s voice made him jump. He whipped around to see Nagito standing in the doorway to the hall, a blanket wrapped loosely around him. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, got a call. Um, you go rest. I’ll be right in.” Hajime stood up. _What did I get myself into in dating him?_


	4. Hummingbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone I want to say thank you so much to everyone who has left such kind and genuine comments on this fic. It means the world to me and absolutely makes my day every time I get a notification.  
> I also want to touch on the length of these chapters. I am aware that they're rather long and I apologize. The story was originally a oneshot sort of idea and so I figured the length was alright, but now that I've expanded on it, I hope that it does not seem excessive to any of you. I do tend to overwrite.  
> Thank you again, have wonderful days, everyone <3

After Hajime had ended his phone call, he’d gone to bed, but Nagito lay awake next to him, feigning sleep until he heard Hajime’s breathing even out into light snores. When he was certain Hajime was asleep, he pulled his knees up to his chest and sat up in their bed, staring out the window. He unwrapped the bandage around his wrist and stared at where the red lines were scabbing over. Normally, he’d pick at them or reopen them and then put the bandage back over it so Hajime wouldn’t know, but now he had no reason to. His body was punishing him enough; he didn’t need to join in with it. He rewrapped the bandage and watched Hajime sleep.  _ Should I tell him? Would he even want me to tell him the truth? _ Nagito gnawed on his lip while he thought.  _ I could just end it now, instead of telling him. If I died right now, it wouldn’t be so bad. I’ve had a nice vacation and spending my last minutes with Hajime would be ideal. It couldn’t hurt him  _ too _ badly if I died. I know he cares, but I am replaceable.  _ Nagito glanced back out the window to one of the mountains. He wasn’t scared of heights. He could jump off of it.  _ No. Your lungs wouldn’t even let you climb that high, are you kidding? You’re useless. Kill yourself some other time. _ He sighed at his own thoughts and nodded, sinking back into the bed. He felt himself drift back to an uneasy sleep for another two or three hours until he woke up again. Hajime was still sleeping on the other side of him. He’d like to wake up like that more often. But he knew better. 

* * *

 

A few days later, they were home. Hajime had school the next day and Nagito claimed he had to work, as well, so they’d said early goodbyes and gone to their own houses. Hajime had been elated to find Scruffy alive and well and somehow knowing various new tricks. Gundham’s hamsters seemed to have done a number on him, though, because he seemed exhausted. 

He didn’t see Nagito the next day, because of work and he ended up being so tired that he collapsed into bed. Same thing the next day. Still no Nagito. He called him a few days after that, but Nagito had a meeting with Kokichi about legal stuff. Hajime understood. “Alright, see you some other time.” He’d shrugged it off and hung out with Souda at a local bar, instead. It wasn’t until almost another two weeks had passed until he came to the startling conclusion that Nagito was avoiding him. He was fairly sure he hadn’t done anything. He backed off, deciding Nagito needed some space. They texted a bit for the next week, but still no craziness from him. Or explanation. 

Hajime’s brain was slowly starting to think that maybe Nagito had actually meant what he said about wanting to break up. His trying to hurt himself after hadn’t been regret or punishment for words he didn’t mean, he’d just felt bad about hurting Hajime with the truth.  _ Well, we’re neighbors. He can only go so long before we have to talk to each other and I’ll ask him what’s up, then. Pestering him now won’t do us any good. _ He decided. Hajime distracted himself with food, opening his phone to order a pizza. He’d just barely filled put his order when there was a knock at the door. He blinked. He hadn’t even pressed “submit” yet. “Jeez, that’s kind of weird.” He frowned and opened the door, digging through his wallet. He pulled out a tip and handed it to…  _ “Nagito?” _ He coughed.

Nagito frowned down at the money, confused. “Er, may I ask what you’re… Paying me for?” 

“I thought you were, um, y’know… Uh, pizza. Yeah.” Hajime mumbled, letting him in. He closed the door and looked back at Nagito, seeing his face clearly for the first time. “Er, are you alright?” He asked, taking a step towards him. Nagito hummed a positive response. His eyes were dull and glazed over, looking especially intense. He seemed paler than usual, but his cheeks were red, matching his bloodshot eyes. Nagito never really looked  _ put together _ but this was… Different.

“I’ve never been better, Hajime. Especially now that I’m in your company.” Nagito laughed at the look Hajime gave him, closing what was left of the distance between them. “I need,” he wheezed a bit. “You.” His voice had dropped in pitch and he was licking his lips with a hungry look.

“This is a bit, erm, sudden.” Hajime’s eyes were wide. They’d done sudden; they’d  _ started _ with sudden for God’s sake, but this felt different. Darker. Deeper. Had Nagito’s pupils always been  _ that  _ small? Without warning, Nagito dropped to his knees in front of Hajime, hands grasping at his belt weakly. “Are… Are you really sure you’re okay?” He frowned, but Nagito nuzzled into the front of his jeans. “Alright- um jeez, okay, let’s go upstairs-” Hajime started but found himself being pulled to the floor by Nagito.  _ He wants to do it on the living room floor? He does know I own a bed, right? Or a couch, at least?  _ Hajime’s mind was reeling. Nagito’s mouth was suddenly on his, so rough their teeth clicked a few times. He was breathing heavily and Hajime could feel it between them. Hajime had barely brushed his hands over the flat skin on Nagito’s stomach when he whimpered a moan, too high and startled to be a seduction technique. He looked surprised at himself and then dropped to Hajime’s waist, pulling him from his pants and wrapping his mouth around him. There was no exchange of words or caress just sudden friction and Hajime felt dizzy for a second.  _ Is he really this pent-up? _ He felt himself slipping back into a worry about Nagito before a well timed flick of the tongue brought him back to the ground. He opened his eyes for a second and almost closed them again to avoid any embarrassing sounds leaving his mouth. Nagito’s eyes were half closed and he was palming himself while he worked. “Ah-Nagito, let’s…” He trailed off, but Nagito seemed to know where he was going and he stopped, wide-eyed. 

“Really?” His voice sounded different. Higher. Like he was watching everything around him and adding a commentary, not actually speaking. “Even after I made a fool of myself last time?”

“That was… Not your fault. And you didn’t, um, ‘make a fool of yourself’ I did.” Hajime shook his head. “Should I, er, go get-”

“I have a condom.” Nagito breathed, scrambling through the pockets of his pants for his wallet until he found it. 

“Well, lube-”

“ _ Hajime _ ,” Nagito’s words were quiet. Hajime would have regarded them as a warning if he thought Nagito was capable of such a thing. “I can’t… I-I know I must seem like such a corrupted creature right now, but I can’t wait that long.” He didn’t seem like he really knew what he was saying, his lips parted and eyes still too glossy. Hajime blinked once. 

“Okay.”

He pushed Nagito down, so he was the one to the floor and opened his mouth with the side of his thumb, pressing two fingers inside. Nagito licked at them eagerly, hands caressing and petting Hajime like he was the only thing he could feel. Hajime struggled with Nagito’s pants until they were off of him and he pressed one of his slicked fingers into Nagito, just barely. Nagito didn’t tense or shiver like usual, he just relaxed like a load had been taken off his chest. Hajime moved his fingers, holding in a reaction to the little moans and trembles he could pull from Nagito. He’d barely added a second finger when Nagito started pulling Hajime closer. 

“Already? We’ve barely-”

“ _ Please _ .” Nagito whimpered, bloodshot eyes too wide. Hajime hadn’t realized how much of a mess he’d already been broken down to. Hajime shook his head.

“It’s gonna hurt.”

“No,” Nagito coughed like there was some joke that Hajime wasn’t part of. “Please Hajime, I need it.” 

Hajime frowned, but obliged, lining himself up and entering Nagito with a stifled hiss. This time, Nagito did shiver, eyes rolling back almost immediately. Hajime waited a moment, trying to ground himself and gauge whether or not Nagito was as fine as he claimed he was. He didn’t have time to find out, because Nagito rolled his hips for him, fucking himself on Hajime. Hajime gasped from the sudden pressure, burying his head in Nagito’s neck. He let Nagito push him back, straddling him with an expression that bordered on hysterical. He was riding Hajime, thighs trembling and chest heaving. “Fuck.” Was all Hajime could manage.  _ What set off this mood in Nagito? _ He wondered, before grabbing his hips to take control. He wasn’t sure how long Nagito could hold out doing it on his own. He didn’t want him to exert himself. Nagito let out a startled cry, mouth opening enough that Hajime could see his cough drop colored tongue. 

Hajime kissed Nagito, feeling his grip on the taller man get stronger and rougher as Nagito bucked into him, head thrown back, sharp moans tumbling out of him every few seconds. Hajime leaned closer, letting his teeth drag over the delicate skin on his collarbone, until he finally settled on biting into the side of his neck, where he could feel the skin bend to his teeth. He could feel Nagito getting more compliant, weaker. “Are-are you, ah, sure you’re up for this, ah, right now?” Hajime fumbled over his words, panting. One of Nagito’s trembling hands found its way to his neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss, distracting him. Nagito was just mewling at this point, body twitching every time Hajime drove into him. Hajime pressed the flat of his hand down on Nagito’s dick, enjoying the whimper of near-overstimulation it elicited. His hands found Hajime’s arms, gripping them tightly. Nagito squirmed wildly, thrashing suddenly, but Hajime held him down by his shoulders. He tumbled into a release, a choked sob escaping him. If it weren’t for the death grip on Hajime’s arms, he’d think Nagito had passed out. He went dead silent, back arching off the floor as he went limp. Their eyes connected for a second and he saw the words that left Nagito’s mouth more than heard them. “Break me.” He shook his head as Hajime started to stop. 

“Y-you want me to keep going?” Hajime watched Nagito nod with an unreadable expression. He wasn’t sure _why_ Nagito would ever want that. Or why he wanted most things he did. But Hajime was too horny to care. He pushed back into Nagito, who keened, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re so, _so much_.” He muttered. Nagito seemed to revel in his words, pulling him into an open mouthed kiss. Hajime was close, body trembling in anticipation as he finally caught up to Nagito, finishing inside of him and panting. When his head was clear, he pulled out, started to see blood dripping down Nagito’s shoulder. Nail marks were red and aggravated on his skin, small drops of blood seeping from them. “Holy shit I’m so sorry.” He mumbled. _I was grabbing him that hard?_ _Why didn’t he say anything?_

“For what?” Nagito blinked in confusion.

“Y-you didn’t feel that?”

“Hm? Feel what?” Nagito tilted his head. Hajime brought his hands up to eye level with Nagito, so he could see the blood on his fingertips. He stared at them a moment before he laughed, excitedly. “Ah! I didn’t feel it at all, Hajime! This is wonderful!” Nagito sat up, letting his own hand brush the blood. He pressed his hand to his chest, smiling at the stain it left. Hajime saw his own bite mark on Nagito’s neck and winced. He obviously hadn’t felt that one, either. Nagito looked crazy, blood and semen spilled on his chest and grin wide like the cheshire cat. The hand that supported him was shaking wildly, threatening to knock him off balance at any moment. Hajime noticed and pulled Nagito onto his lap. 

“Hey, I think we might’ve been… A bit too harsh. It might be dangerous for you and I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hahaha!”

“... That wasn’t a joke.” 

“None of that hurt at all Hajime. I promise.” He said it like it was the greatest thing in the world. Nagito reached for his jacket and a rattling noise echoed through the room. He froze, looking wide-eyed at Hajime. 

“What was that?” Hajime frowned. Nagito scrambled for his jacket, but Hajime was faster. As he grabbed it, an orange pill bottle dropped out. He held it away from Nagito, who was still reaching for it. He squinted at the label. “Oxycodone? Percocet? Jesus Christ, Nagito.” He mumbled, feeling his hand shake around the bottle. “I- Oh God. Recreational drug use now, too? What are you doing?” 

Nagito’s lips pressed together, still shaking. “It’s not recreational. I have a prescription.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Hajime felt the worry in his stomach, gnawing. Nagito was hiding something. There were enough issues piled up on Nagito’s plate, drug use didn’t need to be part of it.  _ Couldn’t _ be part of it. “Show me the receipt.” He caught Nagito’s gaze, forcing eye contact. Nagito’s eyes darted away.

“I-I have the right not to, Hajime.” His words were uncertain and quiet, but still there. Hajime blinked; he’d never expected Nagito to stand up for himself. 

“Well, I-I guess. Um, yeah. You’re right.”

“Then I’d prefer not to.” Nagito’s words were a little more level, realizing Hajime wasn’t mad at him. He couldn’t show Hajime the prescription receipt. If he did, he’d have to tell Hajime everything and he wasn’t ready yet. Wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready. There was silence for a second.

“Hey, um, good job, by the way. On, er, standing up for yourself. You don’t do that often. It must have taken a lot of courage.” He wrapped an arm around Nagito. Nagito let out a small noise. 

“You’re not angry?”

“No. Just… Just worried.” Hajime sighed, planting a kiss on the top of Nagito’s head. “Do you want to take a bath?” He asked. Nagito nodded a quick response. Hajime pulled him up with him and they walked to the bathroom, turning the faucet and waiting for it to warm up. Nagito was at the sink, using a towel to clean his chest with a strange look. Hajime stepped into the water, making a careful effort to avoid slipping. The thought of making a fool of himself and ending up injured  _ and _ naked in front of Nagito was too much. When his body hit the water with a light splash, Nagito turned around. Nagito climbed in next to him and Hajime suddenly realized how terrible of a mistake he’d made. This was too intimate. Too  _ normal _ for them. Their relationship was something that never seemed to bode well with normalcy and stability and there they were, sitting together in a bathtub like some sort of fucking postcard.  _ Maybe Nagito’s right _ , Hajime found himself thinking.  _ About all this luck and karma bullshit. Maybe us trying to be us is what always puts it over the edge. _

Nagito’s back rested against his chest and he felt his wild hair tickle the underside of his chin. He let his hand wet the hair, smoothing it back to stop tickling him. Nagito took this as an affectionate gesture and leaned into the touch even more. One of his arms was resting on the side of the tub and Hajime outlined the scars on it with his fingers gently. Nagito mumbled something, but Hajime didn’t think either of them had any idea what. “I really do have a prescription, Hajime. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He settled on a sentence, watching Hajime outline the scars. His hand wavered for a moment, but continued. 

“Oxycontin is dangerous. With your track record, no sane doctor would give it to you. You’d end up dead or addicted in a week.” Hajime smoothed down more of Nagito’s hair, putting effort into keeping his voice light. 

“They’re not worried about that, Hajime.”

“Well they should be!” He started to feel his voice rise and he shut it down. Nagito didn’t flinch or seem deterred, however. He just curled up a little more. The water hitting the sides of the tub with every little move was both nerve wracking and calming at the same time. Everytime Hajime felt like he’d started to pick out its rhythm, it would turn another way or stay too late.  _ Like Nagito.  _ He thought.  _ No, nevermind. I’m just being an English teacher again and making this way too deep. It’s just bathwater and Nagito’s just a person.  _ He sighed, kissing the bitemark lightly like the contact would somehow make the bruise disappear. He wished it would; he felt guilty every time he had to look at it. Nagito’s body tensed with the sudden contact, but relaxed soon after. 

Nagito’s mind was moving too fast for his own good.  _ I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him. I’m too weak. _ He started to dig his nails into the scars above where Hajime was tracing them, but Hajime gripped his wrist and pulled him back. “Don’t hurt yourself.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around Nagito’s in an attempt to keep his hands from doing any more harm. A sudden irritation flared up in Nagito. He wasn’t sure if that frustration was from Hajime’s lack of understanding or from his own inability to explain, but he could feel it bubbling inside him nonetheless. 

“Hajime.” He started, waiting until all he could hear was the water again. “I meant what I said. About being afraid of death.” It was so much easier to talk like this, when they weren’t facing each other. When Nagito didn’t have to force himself into making eye contact or doubting every expression. “I can’t live my life afraid. Before my parents died, I had something to leave behind. Something to be nervous about. And when they left… my only solace from it was the freedom. Do you know how freeing it is, Hajime? To look at a building and know you could jump off of it if you wanted to?” Nagito’s words were rolling off his tongue, now. He’d set off the first domino and now the chain was tumbling  infinitely. He didn’t let Hajime answer. He couldn’t. He couldn’t  _ stop _ . “Because when you care, there are so many things holding you down. Nothing is ever really yours, anymore. If I died today, I would leave behind your grief and I’d never be able to face death as something new. It would be an end. Not a beginning.” Nagito could feel the frustration continuing to rise in himself, countless new aggravations being piled onto it. His illness, his parents, death, everything was climbing into his head, making him feel like he was going to rip. “I know you think I’m self-centered, Hajime. You hide it because you’re afraid of me thinking any less of myself. But I know. I agree with you. But I think you’re a little selfish, too. If it were just me caring for you, you’d have no issue cutting me away to make my end easier. But because your feelings are here… no suddenly I mean something. I’m not  _ supposed _ to mean something, Hajime. Don’t you think there’s a  _ point _ to all this?” his voice was getting higher. To his surprise, Hajime was staying calm. He’d let go of Nagito’s arms as they’d started to move with his mouth, but kept them around Nagito’s waist. Hajime was quiet. 

“And what is that point? A peaceful death? Isn’t there more to life than… than  _ dying _ ? You can’t pretend like you were born to die because you’re too afraid to face sadness. You put yourself through hell every single day, I don’t understand why it would be so hard for you to just… accept the kind of pain that actually does some good.” Hajime’s voice was delicate, treading carefully around the minefield Nagito had set with his own words. He felt a bitter grin creep up his face.  _ He still doesn’t understand _ .

“The point is safety, Hajime. Insulation. If I become something that no one wants, then I can be angry. I can be bitter. I can be  _ pissed _ at the world because I’m not special.  _ You _ can overlook me. ‘Oh, how terrible, he’s got cancer’ and you’re done with me, because I’m not socially acceptable. You get your distance from my chaos, and I get my chance to blame  _ someone _ for the hells I’ve lived. Do you get that at all, Hajime? Every single time you-you reciprocate and stay, I  _ have _ to face myself. You take away that choice for me to look away, Hajime.” Nagito’s eyes were stuck to a shampoo bottle at the end of the tub. He was pretty sure he’d have the ingredients list memorized by the end of discussion. It wasn’t a fight. At least, he didn’t  _ think _ it was. Hajime seemed calm and when they fought, Hajime was usually angry. Or sad. Or “worried.”

“Does… does me being with you…  _ hurt _ you?” Hajime asked slowly. Nagito could almost hear the gears turning in his head. Silently. Slowly. Nagito hesitated too long, his fists clenching and unclenching. 

“Yes.”

“So is what you’re trying to tell me… that you, er, you want us to end? Is that it?”

“I just want you to understand.” Even Nagito could hear the brokeness in his own voice and he recoiled slightly at it. He felt Hajime’s shoulders sag.  _ Can he understand? Is it possible for him to ever know how I work? Does he care as much about solving me as I do him? Probably not. I wouldn’t if I were him. But who knows, really. Hajime’s always a mystery. _

“Nagito…” Hajime’s voice was starting to crack through its calm exterior, little bits of stress and frustration shining through. “The way that you explains things… and the things you try to explain are sometime, erm, well, frankly, sometimes they’re topics I don’t know if I really do understand. I’m… confused.”

“I feel that I’m fairly clear in my intentions.” Nagito snapped back, voice like ice, before he could hold it in. A part of his brain was screaming at his newfound lashing out. He usually kept these thoughts hidden away in a much deeper part of his mind. They never floated to the surface like this.  _ I trust Hajime too much _ . “And I don’t think basic understanding is too much to ask for.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” Hajime didn’t argue, just rested his head on Nagito’s shoulder, listening closely for his response. There wasn’t one. While the silence was certainly not comfortable, it wasn’t one of their worsts. “I have a question.” Hajime was the first one to break the silence. Nagito waited for the question, picking at the dead skin on his chapped lips. His new medication made his lips drier, apparently. “When you went to the hospital on spring break, did my being there make it worse?”

“That’s different, I knew I wasn’t dying.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Hajime was nervous he’d pushed too hard when the room went quiet for a second. 

“No. I-It was nice having someone there. I haven’t had anyone in years.” Nagito finally said. 

“You don’t have to listen to this. I know you probably won’t. But, you don’t have to walk into death empty-handed, okay? You can be at peace without having nothing. I’ve been through loss, before. I know this. Wouldn’t it be better to end your life with at least some good memories before you go?” Hajime’s question was rhetorical, but still hung in the air. The water was getting cold and Nagito wondered if it had been the icy tones of his own words that had done it. He often felt like a knife when he spoke, slashing meticulously at every weak-spot it could find. But other days, he was a gun, firing aimlessly and hoping for a target, so he really wasn’t sure in his intentions. “It’s getting kinda chilly, I’m gonna get out. You’re welcome to stay.” 

As Hajime wrapped a towel around himself, Nagito realized how warm the body behind him had been and how empty the water felt without it. He waited a few seconds, watching Hajime drift into his own room slowly, before he followed suit. He wrapped a towel around his waist and folded his clothes, carefully. “Where can I put these? They’re dirty.” He sighed, displaying the stack for Hajime. He pointed to the hamper. Nagito set the perfectly folded edges of his clothes over the crumpled heap of Hajime’s. 

“Do you want, er, some clothes? They’ll be kinda big on you, I’m sorry.” Hajime dug through his closet, looking for clothes that might be smaller on him. He settled on a pair of pajama pants and handed them to Nagito, who changed without a beat. He climbed into Hajime’s bed and watched Scruffy curl up at his feet. Hajime sat next to him, face looking the kind of tired Nagito didn’t think sleeping would help. 

* * *

 

The next morning, Nagito awoke to Hajime sitting up in bed, laptop in hand and pencil tucked behind his ear. He blinked groggily and then pushed himself up by his elbows. “Hajime?”

“Good morning.” He mumbled. “Do you want breakfast?” He asked, eyes focused on the screen as he typed something. Nagito didn’t answer.

“I was thinking about something last night. About us.”

“Me too.” Hajime finally looked away from the screen, eyes clear and open. 

“Hajime, I need you to understand my philosophy.” 

“Okay. I promise I’ll do my best to, but you’ll have to explain it to me.” Hajime nodded. Nagito hadn’t expected that response. “But you need to do something for me in return?”

“What?”

“Just promise.”

“No-”

“You told me when we first met that you wanted me to make decisions for you. Let me make this one.” Hajime stopped him, eyes steady and voice firm. Nagito acquiesced quietly. “If I… If I understand this philosophy of yours, then I want you to talk to someone. I’ve found some of the best therapists in the-”

“I don’t need a therapist.”

Hajime choked, waiting for the joke’s punchline. “Nagito… I-I, ah, okay. Okay. Alright, most people go once they’re diagnosed with a disease like yours. It’s very common. And people who have lost family members. And people who have been abused. And people who self-harm. It-It’s just something I think could help you.”

“I don’t  _ want _ help. It’s too late, Hajime.”  _ He still doesn’t get it. I can’t  _ tell _ him. Maybe he won’t understand until my world ends. Hm.  _ “It’s too late for me to change. It’s not worth it, either.”

“Please work with me on this.”

“So you can stop worrying about me? I’m not a pet.” Another one of his buried pieces of ice slipped past his dam. This one seemed to startle Hajime, more because of its honesty than its coldness. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Because I want you to have some peace of mind. That’s it.” Hajime’s mouth twitched at the end of his sentence, like he wanted to say more but he was too afraid of losing the point he was making to continue. There was no sound for a few minutes. Hajime had the feeling that silence was becoming a third member of their relationship, constantly lurking every time one of them let too much emotion out. Nagito was staring ahead at the wall, but it at least looked like he was thinking over Hajime’s request. He reached for his coat pocket and took one of his pills. Hajime opened his mouth to say something, but Nagito cut him off.

“I take them every day at seven am and seven pm. It’s what my doctor recommended.” Nagito’s eyes were heavy when they met Hajime’s, but he wasn’t sure what they were trying to tell him.  _ He’s still making a point about having a prescription? Is that it? No. I know Nagito. Something else is bothering him, too. That must be why he’s acting so different.  _ Although, the truth was, Hajime was fine with Nagito’s sudden shift into assertiveness. While it seemed he had a unreasonable amount of frustration pent up at Hajime, it at least meant that he was standing up for himself. Not retreating like a wilting flower when things got difficult. Nagito was getting stronger. 

“I-er, okay. I believe you.”  _ I still don’t understand what kind of psycho doctor would give him that strong of drugs,  though. Aren’t they worried about the side-effects at all? _ Something felt off about the situation to Hajime. “Do you want to do something today?” He was tentative in asking, but Nagito hummed a positive response. 

* * *

 

They’d ended up at a movie. Hajime had thought the lack of talking might be a good thing for them both. It was nice to be able to be with Nagito, just focusing on his company for a bit. Hajime’s hand had covered Nagito’s hand during the movie and he was scared he’d move it, but Nagito held it back, eyes fixed on the screen.  _ What changed? _ Hajime wondered, watching him, rather than the movie itself.  _ The first time he lashed out was so different. I still don’t completely understand why he was so angry, but this feels different. More specific and less… irate. He just seems more frustrated or tired than anything. But I have no idea what about. Nothing’s changed, has it? Maybe there’s problems with his aunt, again.  _ Hajime felt his mind slip into a more internal state as the movie went on. He was fairly sure he was going to miss most of the plot. But that was fine. Nagito was more interesting, anyway. 

As they were driving home, Hajime felt a pressure in his chest. The vagueness of their argument and the lack of finality to it had given him nerves. He turned to Nagito a bit, eyes flitting back to the road as much as they needed to. “Are we… Um, okay?”

Nagito’s breath rasped, like he wasn’t sure of the answer, either. 

“Maybe, erm, maybe we should be friends again. I don’t… I don’t want this relationship to hurt you.”

Nagito made a small sound.  _ Isn’t this what you wanted? Now you never have to tell him. He never needs to know the truth. Why are you so upset? _ “Y-yeah. That’s certainly, um…” Nagito didn’t finish, just squeezed a grip around one of his thin wrists. He didn’t dig into the scars. He’d stressed Hajime out enough for one day. But the pain gnawing dimly at his heart was enough for him to wish oxycontin worked on that, too. 

Hajime parked in Nagito’s driveway. “I’ll, er, bring your clothes back when they’re washed if you want.”

“Thank you.” Nagito murmured, staring at the floorwell. His gaze met Hajime’s and he was startled by the affection he felt there. It was a sad affection, but there nonetheless. He’d never seen that look, before. On anyone facing him, at least. Nagito felt himself tremble. There was such a clear end in sight. Such an easy way to escape once and for all and yet there was Hajime, looking at him like he meant something. Like Nagito hadn’t dedicated his life to making sure he didn’t. Nagito whimpered, and covered up the sound by leaning into Hajime and kissing him. It was soft and delicate and nicer than most of the their kisses ever were. But Hajime seemed happy with that. One of his hands tangled in Nagito’s hair, but didn’t pull. Nagito felt his lips shake and he was sure Hajime could feel it, too. But he thankfully said nothing.  _ You could have ended it. When you hurt him, it will be even more your fault now. _ The little angry voice in his head pointed out, but Nagito ignored it. He pulled away from the kiss, just enough to see the end of the happy look that had drifted over Hajime’s face. The gray fog that covered most of Nagito’s thoughts was subsiding a bit. They could make it work. They had to make it work. For both their sakes. “I-I’ll be going.” Nagito mumbled, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car. Hajime squeezed his hand once and then let him go, watching Nagito make his way up to his front door. He pulled out of the driveway and parked in his own. He walked Scruffy and fed him. He was about to settle down and watch some TV when the sound of a car pulling up caught his attention. He almost ignored it -probably just one of Nagito’s customers- but thought better of it at the last second. He glanced out the window and squinted at their license plate. They weren’t customers, they were obviously from somewhere else. A tall woman, dressed in nice clothes and perfect posture, knocked on the door. Nagito answered it almost immediately, face stormy.

“Kokichi says I shouldn’t talk to you.” He muttered and Hajime was surprised he could hear him. He’d never realized their houses were close enough to be within earshot of each other. He hoped he’d never said anything too embarrassing. Or that his neighbor on the other side didn’t hear him and Nagito ever. Unfortunately, the sound could only do so much, and Hajime was forced to resort to watching their expressions more than their words. They were arguing and she brought up Nagito’s parents.  _ It must be the aunt that’s trying to take his house. _ Hajime watched her more closely. The house was nice, but surely a woman with that nice of a car and clothes could afford an even better one? What was her obsession with having the house? Hajime felt anger bubbling in him, waiting until it could explode. He chewed on his lip, continuing to watch the ordeal. 

The woman pointed a finger at Nagito and he flinched away from it, eyes wary and mouth drawn in a nervous line as she tried to grab the front of his shirt for emphasis. She took another step towards him, but he hesitated, slinking away from her with a worried look. Hajime stood up, threw his jacket on and shoved his door open. Scruffy gave him a curious bark. 

Nagito and the woman didn’t seem to notice him as he approached. He could hear her clearly now and it was just making it worse. “Who did you pay to sign your psych evaluation? Who the fuck would sign that? Kokichi organized it, I’m betting. Did he forge it or could you find a doctor stupid enough to think you’re competent? Either way,  _ I _ want Kokichi.”

“He’s my lawyer.” Nagito said with an empty voice.

“Well I want him now. He’s the family’s lawyer, you can’t just claim him! I’m  _ sure _ he’d be happier working on my case.” She pouted. Nagito’s eyes were wide and watery. “What are you even gonna do with the house? How long can you even keep this bullshit up? Aren’t you supposed to be, like, sick or whatever?” The woman smacked the gum she was chewing and the noise made Nagito jump.

“Oi!” Hajime called and they seemed to see him for the first time. “Are you his aunt?” He stormed up to her. Probably too close, but the fire in his veins wasn’t letting him think straight. 

“What do you want?” She frowned. “Who is this…  _ man _ ? Nagito, make him go away.” She glared at Hajime. Nagito opened his mouth, but hesitated. 

“I want you to get the fuck out of here and leave him alone!” Hajime snarled, surprising himself. He hadn’t felt this angry in years. It wasn’t necessarily pure anger, though, it was… protectiveness in a strange way. The woman’s mouth dropped open and Nagito’s eyes went wide. “You’re trying to sue him for the house, right? Then you shouldn’t be here. First of all, you’ve given up your right to a trial in your own state. By proving you can come here, you’ve made it legal for Nagito to insist that all legal matters happen here. Secondly, external communication with the defendant puts your claims as plaintiff in jeopardy and I don’t think you want that. Besides all that, you can’t claim Kokichi  _ now _ . Or anyone from his firm for that matter! If he even  _ tried _ to defend you at this point, he’d be disbarred. You can’t…  _ switch _ sides during a legal battle, you do understand that, right? This isn’t tag, this is real life. So back off.” Hajime took another step closer. The woman’s eyes were glowering and she clenched a fist. One of her pigtails almost hit Hajime in the face as she whirled around and got back in her car, leaving without another word. Nagito watched her car drive away, eyes still big and mouth still silent. He turned to Hajime, almost in slow motion. 

“Ha-Hajime.” He said his name simply. He couldn’t think of the right words, so he just said what was on his mind and hoped his tone got his point across. Hajime looked at him with wild eyes. They were irate, bottomless pits of need. A need to protect. Hajime wasn’t sure when he’d started feeling that much for Nagito and Nagito wasn’t sure that anyone ever had before him. He’d never seen someone scare his aunt away before. Junko usually got what she wanted. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to get carried away. She just, she was just  _ pushing _ you so much. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” Hajime straightened up, returning back more to his normal self. “Erm, I’ll be going home now. Hope that, er, everything is okay with you. Alright, er-”

“Would you like to come in?” Nagito’s voice was uncertain, treading in a territory his heart had never crossed into before. 

“I- yeah. Yeah.” Hajime nodded and followed Nagito into his home. As soon as the door closed, Nagito had buried his face in Hajime’s neck, arms wrapped too tightly around him. But Hajime just held him, too. He felt Nagito shake into him and the sudden sobs that racked through his thin body. “Hey, shh, shh it’s okay. What’s wrong?” He rubbed a hand on Nagito’s back in an attempt to calm him. Nagito hiccuped.

“There are… I need to tell you something, Hajime.” He choked out, fingers digging into Hajime to pull him closer. 

“O-okay. Whatever you need.” Hajime blinked, running a hand through Nagito’s hair. Nagito hesitated, trying to dig through himself for the words but coming up empty handed. He took a panicky breath. “It’s alright, you can, erm, wait if you need to.” Hajime eased.  _ He’s far too kind to someone like me. I’ve used him. Does he even know I have? Does he know how tired I am?  _

But the realization that it didn’t matter creeped through Nagito’s mind. It had been a while since he’d put on the front that the relationship was whatever Hajime wanted. He’d yelled at Hajime. Hurt himself and by extension, Hajime. Yet he was still there. Nagito didn’t try to dwell on why because the smashing feeling was back in chest. It wasn’t his lungs. Or his heart. It was just  _ him. _ That feeling scared him so much. He was wandering into a mind place so much more dangerous than he’d ever tried before. He was walking into his own death and he couldn’t fucking stop. “I-I love you. I love you.” Nagito choked the sentence out once and then repeated it again, with more confidence. He remembered the first time he’d said it to Hajime. The way his hands had shook just so slightly. It was pleasant. The satisfaction of telling Hajime without having to anticipate the response. But this time, that satisfaction was ripped from him. 

“I love you, too.” Hajime said in a firm voice. His eyes were stuck to Nagito, following his every expression, waiting for the inevitable breakdown. Nagito whimpered.

“N-no y-you don’t understand, Hajime, y-”

“Nagito, I love you.” Hajime repeated, mouth set in a firm line. Nagito’s eyes went wide and his hands started to claw at Hajime’s chest. He wasn’t pushing him away, though. So Hajime just closed his eyes and waited. All he heard for a few seconds was Nagito breathing heavily.

“Y-you  _ can’t  _ love me.” 

“Why not? I already do. Please, just-”

“Hajime, I’m dying!” He shrieked suddenly, voice cracking. The sudden jump in octave made Hajime jump a little. “You-you can’t love me! I’m dying!”

“Nagito, y-you’re hardly  _ incurable _ . You’ve survived this long and you’re doing well, right? I mean-”

“ _ I’m going to die! _ ” He cried back, almost wailing. “Do… Do you remember when I-I was in the hospital?” 

“Of course, but the, the doctors said you were okay, right? You-”

“Do you remember how the doctor wanted to speak with me afterwards?” Nagito’s face had gone dark and his eyes dull. Nagito had left, replaced just with the words he’d been too afraid to speak. “I-I’m dying, Hajime. My right lung barely works anymore. The tumors in my brain have swelled. I’ll either be a vegetable or stop breathing by the end of the year.” His hands scratched at his chest, but Hajime was too gone to stop him. He took a step back, feeling his back hit the wall.

“I-I… No. N-no that’s can’t be true. It’s not true.” Hajime blinked back tears. Nagito wheezed a laugh.

“Ah no. It’s very true, Hajime. You said it yourself, no doctor would give someone like me my prescription. But it doesn’t matter to them anymore. If I die by overdose or I die by my body. It’s all the same, really. That’s why it’s too late for me, now. Too late for therapy. For us. I’ll be gone in less than a year.” Nagito’s voice was so hollow, so  _ empty _ that it made Hajime want to scream. His eyes stung and his face felt hot. The tear tracks that had started were so hot they burned him as they rolled down his cheeks. Nagito laughed again, a bitter sound that hurt Hajime as much as it hurt Nagito to pull it from himself. “Ha  _ ha _ , I lied to you Hajime. I-I told you that I didn’t want you to hurt. I told you that you could love someone and be okay with them getting hurt. I  _ thought  _ that wasn’t true for you, but it must be. I must  _ want you to hurt _ . Because I haven’t told you. I’ve let you get this far without even a warning.  _ Ahhh,  _ ha ha ha, Hajime. I must be  _ so _ terrible, huh?” Nagito seemed almost delirious. 

“No… No. You’re not ‘terrible.’” Hajime finally managed.  _ This hurts. But I have to be strong right now. I have to keep him steady.  _

“You aren’t upset? I should have put more effort into pushing you away. I let you feel like you could care, Hajime. I let you care just so I could pull the rug from under your feet. Does that make you angry?” Nagito’s voice was too calm. Too normal. Like he was gossiping about someone far, far away from them. “Do I make you angry?”

“No.” Hajime said quickly. This was too much. Too much to take in. Nagito grabbed his wrist, holding him too tightly. 

“Even though I used you?” Nagito’s grin was too wobbly and wide to be genuine. “I used you for my own sick emotions so that I could try to feel something. You figured that out at first, didn’t you?” 

“Jesus, Nagito, no. I-I just want you to be safe. And… And okay. I mean… what did the doctors say exactly? How long? Are you… are you in pain?” Hajime was running through every question he could think of, trying to get as many in the open as he could before Nagito cut him off. 

“They don’t know. I don’t even get to know when I die.” Nagito seemed amused by this. He suddenly looked up, meeting Hajime’s eyes with a dangerous expression. “I would like to know. And now that I’ve told you the truth, I think you know what I intend to do.”

Hajime blinked a few times, mouth still open. He was so confused. So lost. Nagito always had this effect on him, but never… never like this. When the puzzle pieces finally clicked together in his mind, Hajime gasped, reaching for Nagito, who let him grab him roughly. “Don’t you fucking dare, Nagito. I won’t let you-”

“You can’t stop me.” Nagito’s body was slack, but his face was calculated. “I intend to face death with freedom and I won’t let you take that away from me. I won’t let  _ anyone _ take that away from me.” He seemed paler than usual, shaking in Hajime’s grasp. His eyes were dull and dark and Hajime wished he could see any shred of their usual color behind the fog. 

“Th-that’s not true. I’m staying here. I won’t take my eyes off you for a second.” Hajime rasped, feeling his voice catch somewhere in his throat. Nagito laughed a deep laugh, wheezing a bit as he came off it. He pushed himself free of Hajime’s grip, teetering a few feet away. They were both quiet for what felt like eons. Nagito fixed his sweater and ran a hand through his hair. 

When Hajime was little, his grandma had a little glass statue that she loved. It was always front and center on her best shelf and she showed it to every new person who visited her. As the years had worn on, its varnish started to wear and its color grew pale from the sun, but she loved it anyway. It was a little hummingbird, wings extended, forever in flight. He remembered the last time he’d seen it. It caught in the morning sun, each meticulously carved feather reflecting the light. The tiny needle of its beak  cutting a line across the sunrise. By that point, cracks had worn their way down all of its sides, despite his grandma’s best attempts at gluing them. It seemed that even the lightest touch would shatter it into a million pieces. Hajime remembered thinking that it looked so close to breaking. It had almost broken so many times and now that final push was coming to do it in. However, the same delicate pieces and colored glass that made it so quick to break were the same things he found so enchanting about the statue. Even up to the day his grandma had died, the statue had stood there, undeniably beautiful in its proximity to its inevitable shattering. Hajime felt that same way now, watching Nagito’s knuckles tremble as they brushed the wrinkles out of his sweater. 

“Hajime…” He trailed off, eyes catching the sunset through the window behind him. The angle of his chin’s shadow spoke at the same time he did, like a translator behind him. “If you really do hold any love for me, then please let me be tonight. I promise not to end it just yet But I need some time to think.” Nagito’s voice was clear and on the brink of cheerful. A choked little sound came from Hajime’s throat before he could stop it. When he finally turned back to let their eyes meet, a small, innocent smile was dancing on his lips. 

“I…” Hajime faltered, feeling a prickling behind his eyes. Nagito seemed to sense it and stepped closer, brushing their lips together. Hajime felt something wet on his cheek, but he wasn’t sure if it was his own tears or Nagito’s. He wasn’t sure which one was worse. Nagito pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, hands resting on Hajime’s sides. 

“Do you trust me, Hajime?”

_ No! No I fucking don’t! _ His mind was screaming from the sidelines somewhere. But he just nodded, numbly. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Hajime. Goodbye.” Nagito’s words felt too weighted, too pointed. Hajime kissed him again, trying to take in that scent he’d gotten so used to over the last months. When they seperated, Nagito blinked a second before his same smile returned. He walked Hajime to the door and as Hajime was staring distantly at the street before him, Nagito called his name quietly. Hajime turned around. The sun had settled completely behind Nagito, now, illuminating him in a soft glow. It was too soft for someone as pointed as him, but it suited him all the same. The very slightest traces of a smile were on the edges of his lips. “And Hajime, thank you… Thank you for believing in me.” His smile grew and then disappeared just as fast. 

“I love you.” Hajime’s mouth reacted faster than his brain. “Remember that.” He was still speaking without really meaning to. Nagito’s mouth opened just a crack and he tilted his head. His eyes were dark, but he nodded once and closed the door. Hajime walked slowly to his own home.

* * *

 

He fed the dog and then watched TV. He graded a handful of papers and then reheated some leftovers in the fridge for himself. He didn’t really taste it, though. Or feel any of the activities he’d done. Just moved like a robot, completing the tasks it knew how to do and then hibernating until it could find something else. He let Scruffy run around a bit while he ate, watching the dog play and bark. He threw some toys for him, feeling the sinking in his chest lighten up a bit. 

When he finally found himself in bed, he was still numb but at least thinking for himself again. He was reading a shitty mystery novel he’d picked up on their roadtrip when something cracked through him like lightning. He sat up straight, grasping the sheets. Scruffy barked nervously. Hajime took a breath. He wasn’t sure what entity or scientific explanation was behind what he suddenly felt, but at that moment, he didn’t care. Still in his pajamas, he bounded from the room, grabbing his coat and stuffing his feet into the first pair of sneakers he could find. He ran to Nagito’s door and pounded furiously. “Nagito? Nagito, please just fucking answer.” He got no response. He glanced behind him. The car was gone.  _ Shit shit shit.  _ A too familiar and dizzying feeling settled in his stomach and he fished his keys from his pocket, running to his own car and calling Kokichi. Kokichi answered on the second ring. 

“Hajime?”

“Where would Nagito go?”

“I- what?”

“If he was going to kill himself, where would he go?”

“Shit. He’s not… Okay, shit  _ fuck _ , this is bad. Um... “ Kokichi was taking too long to response. Hajime must have made a noise, because he snapped back. “I know,  _ I know _ ! I’m just trying to think, Jesus. Okay, er, he mentioned his high school yesterday. It closed down.”

“Where is it?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“ _ Just tell me where it is _ .” Hajime’s hands shook as he tried to fit the key into the car. He heard papers shuffling and some muffled noises on Kokichi’s end. 

“Uh, downtown. It’s by a grocery store and a cafe with like, a lizard or some shit on the front-”

“I know where that is. I’m going there now.”

“Hajime, wait-” Kokichi’s voice started, but Hajime didn’t wait. He hung up the phone and pressed on the gas, thankful it was just dark enough for the traffic to have ceased a little. He sped through the city, past his own school and the theater where he’d gone with Nagito that day. Even the cafe where they’d met. He swore under his breath.  _ This is taking too long. He could have left hours ago. Oh God. _ Hajime had never been a religious man, but he felt himself praying in desperation under his breath as he broke what felt like just about every traffic law to get to the high school. When he finally reached it, he almost forgot to turn the car off as he jumped out of it. Sure enough, the front door had been pried loose slightly. Hajime shoved it open on its hinges, catching the plaque that read “HOPE’S PEAK ACADEMY.” He remembered Nagito talking about the gifted school he’d attended. Hajime choked on air. If he didn’t get there on time, there would be no more memories with Nagito. No more anything. 

He pressed the elevator button furiously, but it didn’t so much as ding. He swore and grabbed the railing, skipping the stairs so much as climbing them. Somehow, he didn’t fall and he could barely feel the ache in his sides as he bounded up his fourth or fifth level. When he finally caught sight of the “Rooftop Access” sign, he felt like it had been a marathon. He threw the door open. “NAGITO!” He yelled, before it was even open. 

He just barely caught sight of a startled face and wispy white hair as it tumbled over the side of the building. Hajime finally did trip, foot catching on the gravel of the rooftop and sending him sprawling across the ground, hand still outstretched as if he’d even had a chance at catching Nagito.  _ It’s cruel _ , he thought,  _ to let me get so close without being able to help him.  _ He scrambled to his feet and to the edge. There was no sound, just his own blood pumping in his ears too loudly. He heard something rip and then a startled voice.

Hajime’s hands grasped in the gravel and he leaned over the edge. Nagito’s sweater had caught in a wrought iron decoration from the side of the building, but it was ripping quickly, the seams coming undone before Hajime’s eyes.  _ He’s lucky. I should have known he’d get lucky. _ He grabbed at Nagito, pulling him up by his wrists. Adrenaline gave him the strength he felt he was lacking. He was able to pull Nagito back up over the ledge, arms straining and cement digging into him as he did. When he finally crossed the ledge, they both fell back on the cement. He grabbed Nagito’s wrists, pinning him to the gravel and leaning over him. He’d felt the tears on his face since he’d arrived at the school, but now they were an unstoppable force, dripping onto Nagito’s chest. “ _ What the fuck were you doing?! _ ” He asked. His voice was too angry, but he was too spent to reel it back. Nagito met his eyes. 

“I thought you said I was a bad liar, Hajime. Couldn’t you tell what I was going to do?” 

“Fuck you! Jesus Christ, Nagito, you can’t do that! You can’t… Holy shit.” Hajime grabbed at Nagito’s shirt, shaking him. His tears were blurring his vision too much to see Nagito’s expression. “I-I can’t do this without you. Don’t you get that? I rely on you just as much as you rely on me… We can’t fucking control if you’re gonna die, but why- _ why _ would you ever want it to happen sooner? Y’know what? If you’ve only got three fucking days left,  _ fine! _ Then we’ll spend those three days doing something that actually fucking matters! We’ll go to motherfucking Disneyworld or-or, shit, I dunno, skydiving. Or we’ll sit at home and play Uno. It doesn’t matter, at least it’s something! At least we can pull  _ something _ out of the end of your life. You don’t have to care about me if it’s this hard, but Jesus Nagito, can’t you just let me make the end easier for you? Don’t you want to mean something?” Hajime’s voice was zigzagging in pitch and tone. It was hoarse by the time he finished speaking and he felt like his throat was on fire. Nagito seemed to shrink smaller with each of his words, shaking in the cold night air. 

“I do mean something, Hajime.” Nagito’s voice was small. “You’d hurt when I died. Isn’t that the kind of pain you  _ wanted _ ? The pain that lets someone live past their death?” His voice was painfully brittle. 

“That’s not what I want at all.” Hajime shook his head, still sobbing. “I-I know I have to… face a world without you.  _ I know that _ . But I-I… don’t want it now.  I just…  _ I want more time. _ ” Hajime felt the end of his sentence get swallowed by tears. One of the drops landed on Nagito’s cheek and he flinched. He touched his hand to his face lightly, feeling the the drop and pulled it away, staring at the clear liquid like it could tell him something. Nagito’s whole body shook with a ragged sob and suddenly he was crying too, grabbing at Hajime like a wild animal. His sobs were louder than Hajime’s and each one seemed to tear his body into even more pieces. He felt like nothing, wailing beneath Hajime like a child, gasping for breath and digging through his shirt for something, anything that could ground him. Hajime wrapped his arms around Nagito’s body, enveloping him in a warmth that contrasted all the ice he’d felt pour into his veins that night. And suddenly, he felt like everything, again. 


	5. Hope and Rebellion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the long delay in posting this! I have a lot of preparations for university going on and so I've been rather busy as of late. Thank you all for the kind comments and reading, it means more to me than I can express. Have a beautiful night and enjoy the chapter <3

Hajime finally peeled himself off of Nagito, but the other man stayed limp on the gravel roof, shivering. Hajime laid down next to him. He didn’t mean to put an arm around Nagito, but his hand snuck out anyway, like it was afraid he’d jump again. Maybe Hajime  _ was _ afraid. Maybe his fear was correct. He rested his head next to Nagito’s. “How long do you think you have?” He asked quietly, watching the stars float across the sky, blissfully unaware of the pain on Earth. 

Nagito shuddered. “Three months, probably. Although, when they told me I had lymphoma, they only gave me six months back then. It could be tomorrow or it could be a year.”

“How will you know?”

“I have to go in for weekly appointments. To monitor my tumors. One day, I’ll get a call that one of them is too big and that’ll be the end of it. They can’t treat me anymore. That’s why I’ve got the pain medications. It’s really the only thing left my doctors can do.”

“What will happen to the house?” 

“It will go to Junko and she’ll sell it. Same with everything else I own. I should change my will to include you. You’re all I’ve got, anyway.” Nagito’s voice was hollow. Hajime’s brain had given up on the situation, and he was acting purely on instinct. They had nothing to lose besides each other.

“Live with me.”

“What?” Nagito sounded genuinely surprised.

“Please come live with me.” Hajime repeated, feeling his fingers curl into Nagito. 

“I-I can’t imagine you truly want to live with me, so if this is some kind of pity-”

“It’s not.”  Hajime’s voice was getting too rough again. Nagito felt the tears start again, this time quiet and soft. He shook his head.

“You can’t want that, Hajime.” He mumbled but Hajime gave him a look that called him on his bluff. Nagito froze completely.

“We’ll make the end better, alright? We’ll… We’ll make up for everything else. It’ll all be fine.” Hajime breathed, sitting up to watch Nagito again. He pressed a hand to his cheek. Nagito was wheezing, breaths coming with squeaks and rattling in a way that made both of them nervous. He clawed at the font of Hajime’s shirt, not noticing anymore if his nails were breaking or cutting into Hajime. He gasped for breath, feeling himself finally rise off the gravel roof and cry out. He wailed and cried, unable to stop himself. Every sound shook his body and ripped a pain from his chest, like fabric tearing. He needed to stop. But he couldn’t. Hajime just watched him, tired worry etched on his face. “But you can’t pull shit like this, okay? I-I can’t work with this. I’ll go crazy with worry.” 

“I-I won’t… I-I’m sorry.”

“But… You… You said that before, too.” Hajime sighed. Nagito felt his mouth tremble and his eyes widen.  _ Of course. Of course he would ruin it. His one little chance at having anything before he died.  _ Nagito choked on his words as they came out.

“Please, Hajime,  _ please _ . Y-you have to believe me, I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t… I j-just…” Nagito was shaking too hard, teeth chattering as he spoke, cutting up his words even more. Hajime noticed and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Nagito’s bony shoulders. The shaking hadn’t been from the cold, but Nagito felt his body start to still anyway. He finally found the words he was searching for, grasping at them weakly in his brain as they escaped his mouth. “I… I’ve never regretted it, before. This was the first time I’ve…” Nagito trailed off. He never knew how to explain his thoughts but the pounding in his head was making it even worse. Hajime shuddered, pulling Nagito to his chest. He was barely more than trembling skin and bones in Hajime’s arms. 

“It’s okay. I-I believe you. Let’s… Let’s get you home, come on.” He stood up, offering a hand to Nagito. Nagito took it, stumbling as he stood. Hajime looked him over. He was scratched from the gravel and cement, his arms and cheek red from friction and scraping. Hajime winced when Nagito didn’t and put an arm around him to support him. The elevator still didn’t work, so they limped down each flight of stairs. It felt like years as they took each step slowly, Nagito’s legs shaking so much Hajime was sure a single misstep would send them both tumbling. Nagito stopped about halfway down, staring down the hallway to their side with a strange look. 

“This was the hall my classes were in.” He mumbled. He pointed to a rusty door. “That was my chemistry class right there. I minored in chemistry because of it.” Nagito blinked and for a moment, Hajime felt like he could see the memories hovering behind his clear eyes. Nagito looked back at him. “That’s why I chose Hope’s Peak. If I died here I might’ve at least had a shot at being anywhere near as special as all of them.” 

“You are special. You got into the school, either way. Whether it was luck or not, you were just as important as everyone else. Don’t make problems where there are none.” Hajime expected a laugh from Nagito, but he just got a slight nod. When they reached the end of the stairs, they heard a crash. Nagito jumped, clinging to Hajime. Hajime tensed up, peering around the corner. The last thing they needed was an arrest for trespassing. 

“ _ You! _ ” Kokichi shrieked, shoving aside the door. His eyes were wild and teeth bared. “Fuck you! And fuck you too!” He pointed at them both. “I called you twenty five fucking times! Did you pick up? No. And then,  _ you _ , oh don’t even get me started with you, Nagito. Were you really going to fucking kill yourself? After-after all of this?! I swear to fucking God, if you try this shit again,  _ I _ will kill you before you even get the chance!” Kokichi’s face was dark and irate. Hajime breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him, but Nagito shuffled behind Hajime, mumbling an apology and looking at the floor. “Ah, holy hell. Do you know what would’ve happened if someone besides Hajime and I had found you? You’d lose your house! All of it!”

“I’m dropping the suit. I-I don’t want the house, anymore.”

“ _ What?! _ ”

“But, I… I need your help with something else. I want you to help me write my will.” Nagito’s voice was weak and gentle, but he was holding his own, words staying strong as he finally met Kokichi’s eyes. Kokichi raised a hand, looking angry, but then stopped suddenly, shutting his mouth quickly. He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his forehead and going silent for a second. He sighed. 

“Okay. Okay, fine. I’ll call Junko’s lawyer tonight. Start packing. We’ll meet tomorrow and go more in-depth. I’m assuming you’ll want Hajime there, so bring him. Don’t make me worry like this again or I will  _ actually _ murder you.” Kokichi turned on his heel, leaving without another word or glance. Nagito swallowed, watching him leave. 

* * *

 

As Hajime’s car pulled into their neighborhood, Nagito glanced at his house. “Ah, I should, erm, pack.” He started to unbuckle his seatbelt, but Hajime stopped him. 

“There’s time for that. You need to rest, first.” Hajime shook his head, pulling into his own driveway. He parked the car and they walked in. Hajime pointed to the couch. “Sit.” He said simply, digging through the hall closet for disinfectant. When he found it, he returned to Nagito, keeping an eye on him the whole while. It was true he didn’t exactly trust Nagito, but since he’d seen him jump, the feeling that looking away from him for a moment was dangerous had been growing in his mind. He was almost scared that he’d be responsible for something else bad happening to Nagito if he lost attention for even a second. He dabbed the disinfectant on a cotton pad and pressed it to Nagito’s elbow, which had taken the brunt of the scraping. Nagito reached for it.

“Hajime, I can-” He stopped at the look Hajime gave him and his hand retreated. Hajime pressed the cotton pad everywhere he could see blood, gritting his teeth at every flinch and wince of Nagito’s. But it was good in a strange way to hear Nagito wince. It made him so much more human. He’d seen enough of Nagito destructing, he just wanted to see him feel. “I’m sorry.” Nagito mumbled again.

With those words, the adrenaline that had been keeping Hajime animated left him, draining too fast. He slumped onto the couch, eyes unfocused and skin numb. He was more than exhausted, feeling like every fiber of his body was a mixture of lead and cement. He realized too late that his eyes had closed for more than a second and he reached out, sighing in relief when he felt Nagito’s t-shirt. “Oh thank God,” he mumbled, barely audible. “Oh thank God you’re okay.” He felt Nagito hesitate above him and then wrap an arm around his shoulders, like a second reassurance that he was there. Hajime took a breath, trying to breath in his scent and get enough energy in him to walk up the stairs. He shut his eyes tightly and then opened them, sitting up straight. “Let’s go to bed.” He waited for Nagito to nod and stand next to him. 

When they got to bed, Hajime wrapped his arms around Nagito tightly. “I’m not going to disappear, Hajime.” Nagito frowned, apparently unable to see irony in his own words. Even long after they’d both fallen asleep, Hajime woke up repeatedly, patting around on the bed, checking for the warmth beside him. When he felt satisfied that Nagito was indeed still there and very much alive, he’d open his eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. Nagito was still. Peaceful. Lost in a dream world where he wasn’t broken. Hajime wondered what Nagito’s dreams were like. He had to believe they were dark and disturbing, twisted little fantasies. It  _ was _ Nagito he was talking about, anyway. But part of him didn’t think so.  _ He’s too delicate for that. Too gentle. The world broke Nagito, it’s the scary thing. Not him.  _ It was easy to believe that, looking at him as he slept. One of his usual jovial smiles was resting on his face and without the words that usually hid behind it, it seemed as innocent as a baby lamb.  _ It had been so close. He’d been so close to dying.  _ Hajime felt a shiver run down his spine just thinking about it. He kissed Nagito’s forehead for good measure. 

* * *

 

Hajime woke up before Nagito the next morning. He got up and got dressed and then brushed his teeth, ducking back into the room every so often to see if he’d awoken yet. Nagito was still curled up in the bed, fingers clutching at the blanket as he slept. Hajime picked up the notepad he’d been writing in the day before and pulled out his cellphone. He called the number he’d written down and waited impatiently while it rang, praying the noise didn’t wake Nagito. “Hello?” A voice finally called through it. 

“Uh h-hi, um, I’d like to make an appointment for someone… Um, yeah. Er, yes…. No, no I don’t think so. No it has to be soon. I think next week would work. Yeah. Okay, thank you… Alright, you too. Um, see you.” Hajime hung up, writing a date down in his notepad and underlining it. He heard the scratching noise of the sheets and turned around.

Nagito stirred, eyes blinking open slowly. He hummed softly, pushing himself up in the bed to watch Hajime on his elbows. Hajime felt a strange emotion mix inside of him. There was a universe where Nagito wasn’t in that bed. Where Hajime had been too late and Nagito never sat there, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Hajime felt his breath catch in his throat, trying to ignore that feeling he couldn’t stop anymore. “Hajime?” His voice lilted up with his eyebrows.

“You’re seeing a therapist. Next week.” He sat back on the bed, running a hand through Nagito’s hair. He expected a response. A push back. Another fight. But there was nothing. Nagito just nodded, as if in agreement, and buried his hands in the blanket. 

“I need… I need to go get changed. We have to see Kokichi about the will.” Nagito’s voice was quiet and submissive. Hajime felt a pang. He was sad to see what little assertiveness Nagito had been mustering up disappear so quickly. Hajime hesitated. “I’ll only be gone for a moment, Hajime.” He tried to assure him, but Hajime handed him one of his own t-shirts. It was too big on Nagito, but he put it on, anyway, without a complaint. He also started to pull on Hajime’s jacket from the night before, stopping when he realized what he was doing. “A-ah. Sorry.” He started to take it off, looking away.

“No. What’s mine is yours and all that.” Hajime took a breath and pulled it back over Nagito. He knew that keeping Nagito in his sight wouldn’t last forever, but… he wasn’t sure what else to do, anymore. He couldn’t lose him. At least, not before he was supposed to, anyway. 

* * *

 

Kokichi was waiting for them at his office, eyes tired and face pale. He’d obviously stayed up all night working, but he shrugged off Nagito’s apologies for it, claiming he’d slept a full twelve hours the night before. Hajime wondered if it was a challenge to call him on his bluff or if he really expected them to believe it. Or maybe it was just what counted as a joke in Kokichi’s crazy little mind. 

They’d just sat down, and Kokichi was shuffling papers and reaching for a pen. Nagito just barely glanced up, eyes unreadable. “I want everything possible to go to Hajime.”

Both Hajime and Kokichi coughed, eyes wide and blinking. “Er, you really,  _ really _ don’t have to do that, Nagito.” Hajime stammered, staring at him. Nagito gave him an almost pleading look. 

“Hajime… This is the way that I can, that I can….” He closed his eyes, like he was struggling. “This is how I can be with you without feeling guilty. If I leave you something behind, then I can’t scare myself out of it.” Nagito kept his voice quiet, like Kokichi couldn’t hear every single noise in the small room. Kokichi leaned forward in his desk, frowning.

“As your lawyer, I… I think you should take a step back and look at this, Nagito. You’re, well, you’re very wealthy. Even without the house and business, you’re well off. You could put that money anywhere-”

“Exactly. I want it with Hajime.” Nagito hadn’t meant to cut off Kokichi, but he couldn’t hold the words back. Kokichi just shrugged and started pulling paperwork from different bins and telling them where to sign. 

Hajime felt a gross sensation as he watched Nagito sign away his everything to him. He felt.. Like a user. Here he was, watching a sick, damaged man give him everything he owned when he died.  _ Nagito knows I care more about him than his money, right? He has to know that, doesn’t he? _ Hajime’s worries were enough to overshadows the excitement at realizing he was about to come into money he hadn’t ever thought about having as a teacher. He’d never been a big investor, as much as he knew he should be. When it was done, Nagito shuddered a little. “Ha. Maybe I  _ am _ lucky.”

“How so?” Kokichi frowned.

“Most people don’t get to decide this kind of thing before they die, do they? Most people don’t get a warning.” He sounded almost wistful, like he wished there hadn’t been a warning. Hajime gritted his teeth and gripped one of Nagito’s cold hands under the table. Kokichi watched them both with a steady glance. 

“You’re right. Better not mess it up, huh?” He raised an eyebrow.  _ That’s mean, isn’t it? Putting a pressure like that on someone as fragile as Nagito isn’t a good idea. It’s dangerous, even.  _ But Nagito seemed to find a deeper meaning it, a small smile lifting his face. He laughed.

“Yeah. You’re right as always, Ouma.” He stared into the wooden grain of Kokichi’s desk for a few seconds, eyes unseeing and blank, before he turned back to Hajime. “We need to pack.” He said simply and Hajime nodded. They said their goodbyes to Kokichi and drove back to their neighborhood, parking in Nagito’s driveway this time. Hajime stopped for some cardboard boxes and tape on the way home and they carried the supplies in together. Nagito grimaced. “I know that it looks like a lot, and you were so kind to offer your help. But there’s not very much. Most of this is my grandfather’s that he left with the house. There’s only a few rooms where I really unpacked anything at all.” He started to carry some boxes up the stairs, so Hajime followed. 

Nagito started down his hall and then hesitated at the entrance to his bedroom, hand hovering above the doorknob. “I’ve never actually been in here.” Hajime realized and Nagito nodded, like that was the very thing he was wary of. He’d entered his room once, months ago when he’d walked in on Nagito. But back then, he’d been too consumed by the aftermath of that and the awkwardness to really look around. After a long pause, he turned the handle and opened it, walking into the room and setting down the boxes. 

“E-everything in here needs to be packed.” Nagito mumbled, but Hajime didn’t hear him. He was looking around the room, feeling his breath catch. The room was, well -  _ it’s Nagito. Everything in here is so Nagito. _ The walls were the same light green as his eyes and a few plants were on each window sill, somehow amazingly healthy and lush. It seemed Nagito was better at taking care of plants than himself. Books lined every available shelf, but somehow all meticulously organized. On his nightstand, there was a single lamp and the picture from their trip. Hajime felt his eyes sting a bit, trying to take it all in. It seemed unfair to him. It seemed unfair that this room was going to disappear and never be the same again shortly because the soul that made it the way it was was going to disappear. He wished the house was going to him, instead of Junko. That way, when Nagito died, he could just leave the room exactly how it was. If he ever found himself missing Nagito too much, he could just walk in there, look around and pretend Nagito was out doing something. Pretend he wasn’t gone. 

After Chiaki had died, Hajime used to log on to her video game blogs and scroll through them. Every little tag and comment, even if it was just a few words was at least something. And when someone is gone,  _ anything _ from them is welcome. He opened one of the books and flipped through it, watching the black and blue inked annotations flip by with each page. One day, when Nagito was gone, he was sure it would be the same with these books. His handwriting, his thoughtless notes. They’re all somehow worth so much more when a life is ending. Hajime breathed a sigh and turned around. There was a red book on the foot of Nagito’s bed, with a bookmark sticking out of the top. Hajime picked it up and Nagito seemed startled, like he’d forgotten it was there. 

“That was, erm, my ‘note.’” His words were cautious and guilty, like a child talking about a failed test. “I-I didn’t trust myself to write a real note. I thought quoting someone else would make it decent.” Hajime felt his gaze flick to Nagito and then back to the book. 

“ _ The Lucifer Effect _ ? That, er, seems like a pretty dark title.” He frowned, turning to the bookmark and finding that it spanned a few chapters, each highlighted and annotated meticulously. 

“It was a selfish note.” Nagito shook his head. “It only detailed how I felt. What I wanted.”

“It would be the ending of your life. Wouldn’t you want it to do that?” Hajime raised an eyebrow. “What was the sentiment behind it, anyway? If… If it’s not too, uh, difficult, nevermind-”

“As I’ve said before, I’m not as fragile as I look.” Nagito almost cracked a grin at this. He sat on the bed, piling books into boxes as he spoke. He took a breath, steady yet still afraid, and Hajime could see the tension in his shoulder blades as they fell. “It’s the details of the Stanford Prison Experiment. I wanted to leave behind the section about the third day of the experiment.” Nagito’s tone was getting more and more serious, nervous. “There was one prisoner, 8612, ah- I should stop. It’s really rather embarrassing, and I-”

“Please.” Hajime couldn’t force more words out than that.  _ Maybe if I can at least see what he wanted to leave behind in the world, then maybe… maybe I’ll be able to understand him just a little bit more. _ Nagito paused, looking both surprised and a little flustered. He nodded, solemnly. 

“8612 failed the experiment only three days in to the two weeks. He was too much. Too different, too vocal… I believe they used the term ‘too damaged’ to function in the prison. He bent the rules until he couldn’t and then he broke and they had to let him leave. They thought his influence on the others would stop when he was removed, but instead, there were rumors about a planned riot and possible violence, all of which had been orchestrated as part of his exit without the guards’ knowledge. All of the guards and psychologists panicked. They discovered later that 8612 never even got close to going through with his plan. It was just his spirit and his ideas living on in the others, despite his failure and his absence. I’m not sure if you understand. I don’t…  _ expect _ you to. It’s just, I suppose, some sort of homage to  _ something _ . My need to leave something behind me.” Nagito had started packing the books too quickly, almost knocking over his stacks a few times. A strange feeling like drinking lemonade on a hot day ran through Hajime’s blood. He blinked and turned to Nagito, putting a hand on his arms, slowing the rapidly increasing speed of his packing. Hajime was taken aback because for once,  _ he understood. _

“I- yeah. Yeah. I get it. It’s like the ending to  _ One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest _ , right? McMurphy has his life cut short, but because of who he was, he can’t really die. Even his death is a happy ending because it means he’s a martyr. Who he was lives on… lives on forever in the ward. By dying, he becomes eternal. I get it. You want… You want what you believe to live on like that after your death, right? Like, it’s a, er, separate entity from you. A living creature that can’t die because it crawls into the hearts of others. Is that what you meant by all that ‘death is a new beginning’ stuff you said yesterday?”

“I… You…  _ you understand _ .” Nagito’s eyes were watering, glimmering with the tears he couldn’t feel. He looked absolutely astounded; he’d never expected anyone to actually get it. He felt a shaky breath rise from his chest and he laid a hand over the one Hajime had placed on him. “There is a world that exists somewhere where… where we had more time. Where you and I could,” he looked away, rolling a shoulder. “Where we could try and… ‘work through’ our problems. Where we could just be us without… all of  _ this _ . And I-I think about that world a lot. I find solace i-in the idea that there is a version of me somewhere that gets that chance.” Nagito felt his lips shake, cheeks beginning to burn. Hajime had never experienced a need as great as his in that moment to find that world and step into it. Nagito panicked, seeing the conflicted expression on Hajime face and forced a laugh. “See, Hajime? I told you that you shouldn’t have made me afraid of dying. Look at the mess we’re in now.” He laughed again, but the only thing he found very funny was his own ability to mess up every interaction he had with another human. Hajime gripped his hand and then looked troubled, changing the subject. 

“Er, why do you, um, annotate all your books?” He asked suddenly, grasping for any switch in topic to avoid crying in front of Nagito for what felt like the millionth time in a week. 

“Oh. Before you, I didn’t have very many people to talk to, so I just wrote my thoughts in them instead of out loud.” 

“Don’t you get lonely?” Hajime asked, before realizing what he’d said. He’d copied Nagito’s phrase that had started all of this. The phrase that had ended with Nagito sleeping over at Hajime’s, despite his suspicions of him. And now, it was ending with them packing his house up so he could live with Hajime until his inevitable death. Nagito seemed to realize too, because he sent a sly look at Hajime.

“I used to. I used to wish I had friends, but it was just… so hard to understand everyone around me.”

“Okay, first bucket list item getting checked off.” Hajime announced, grabbing a notebook from one of the shelves and using one of their box sharpies to write in it. “We’re gonna get everything done that we can. We’ll start small, but it’ll be great. I think.”

“I, er, don’t follow your logic in how I’m going to make friends.”

“I’m inviting the other teachers over. They’ll  _ love _ you.” Hajime nodded, ignoring Nagito’s look. “But that’s just the first thing. We’re gonna do everything you don’t think you’ll get a chance to. I mean, y’know what a bucket list is.”

* * *

 

“Ayo, where’s the party?” Souda burst through the door before Hajime could open it all the way. “Oh, this is Fuyuhiko. Friend of mine.” Souda nodded, pointing to a petite blonde man with the look most people got after riding in a car with Souda. Gundham followed soon after.

“Apologies for my absence, Maga-Z needed some of his favorite method of sustenance.” Gundham apologized as he walked in. Hajime had long since learned that just meant he’d stopped for seeds for his hamsters on the way there. It was a common excuse.

“Oh, hey Nagito!” Souda waved to him. Fuyuhiko just watched them. Gundham gave a polite nod. “Hey, hey, hey Gundham tell Hajime your secret, come on-” Souda started, jumping excitedly. Gundham gave him a glare and he stopped, pouting but turning back to Hajime. “Let’s play a game or something, man.”

“Er, yeah. Yeah.” Hajime nodded, pulling Uno from his stash of games. They sat at the table and started playing. Fuyuhiko continuously won, somehow managing to pull a draw four or draw two on Souda every time the turn went around. Souda was too busy being bothered over the fact that Nagito needed the rules of Uno explained to him to notice much. 

“Who can’t play Uno?! Nagito, you need to learn, like,  _ right now _ . Seriously. Hey! Gundham, I see that!” Souda snapped as one of Gundham’s hamsters crawled across the table to peek at his cards. 

“Don’t be a dumbass, hamsters can’t fucking snitch.” Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes, skipping Souda as he spoke. Hajime and Gundham exchanged glances that said they both knew very well his could. Hajime’s gaze drifted to Nagito, who was watching them all with excited eyes and a small smile.  

“I allowed my class to view the being you call ‘Scruffy’ in class Friday, Hajime. He had quite the effect on them.” Gundham nodded solemnly at Scruffy, who was begging for some of the chips they were eating at their feet. 

“Is he powerful?” Were the words that left Nagito’s mouth, but Hajime was pretty sure he must be in a strange fever dream because what  _ the fuck does that even mean. He’s talking about my goddamned chihuahua.  _ Gundham laughed, hearty and thrilled.

“Ah yes. You have a keen eye.” Gundham pet one of his hamsters. Hajime watched him return the draw two he’d been about to play on Nagito to his hand and put down a simple blue four, instead.  _ Maybe he’s actually being smart in playing into Gundham’s weird little jokes. Well.  _ He  _ doesn’t think they’re jokes, I suppose. _ Nagito’s hand reached out to a hamster, who sniffed it tentatively and then tried to nibble on it, much to Gundham’s delight. “He’s trying to forge a contract!”

“You said your friends weren’t weird.” Fuyuhiko grumbled to Souda. They continued playing for what felt like just a few minutes, but turned out to be hours. 

“So what was that secret Souda mentioned?” Hajime asked, collecting the cards. Gundham pulled his scarf up, looking away as he mumbled his response.

“Er, principal Sonia and I, we are, erm… She’s…”

“He got with Sonia! Man, I’d kill for that!” Souda laughed too hard for it to be truly genuine. Fuyuhiko gave him a pointed stare. Hajime congratulated Gundham. 

“Oh, I never asked. How do you know Souda?” He finally turned to Fuyuhiko, who shrugged. 

“I fixed his bike! He’s got this sick motorcycle and I saved it like, super hard. It was pretty awesome. Back at my dad’s shop.” Souda clapped Fuyuhiko on the back, giving him a sour look. Hajime remembered how shocked he’d been that Souda had never read  _ the Outsiders _ when they’d first met. There were only so many people named Soda who liked fixing machines in the world. “Ugh, don’t wanna go back tomorrow.” Souda frowned out of the blue. Gundham nodded and Hajime froze .  _ Oh yeah. Work. How am I going to leave Nagito? Will he really be okay? _

They talked for a while about workplace gossip, politics, and whatever else the conversation eventually led to. Nagito listened the whole time, head tilted and nodding every once and awhile in agreement with something someone had said.  _ It’s funny, _ Hajime thought,  _ normally he doesn’t shut up. But now he’s so quiet. Not in a bad way, it’s just like… He’s soaking up everything around him like a sponge. I wonder what’s going through his head. _

What was going through Nagito’s head went simply along the lines of  _ friends FRIENDS, wow! Act normal! Don’t embarrass Hajime in front of his cool teacher friends! _ In high school and college, he’d often been told that he talked too much and that the words he said were too strange or too blunt. He still heard that, however Hajime didn’t seem to mind the bluntness and his wariness of the more bizarre was wearing down. But Nagito didn’t even really feel much of a need to talk as he watched Hajime’s friends groan over a particular student they all happened to have. They were funny and seeing Hajime light up at their jokes was a treat in its own right. Nagito’s nose stung, travelling to the corners of his eyes.  _ I would have liked… More time to experience things like this. _ He thought, blinking the wetness away before anyone could notice. 

Eventually, everyone went home and said their goodbyes. Hajime stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets and grinning. “They really like you. Can’t blame them, though. They usually get super awkward around new people but they stayed pretty calm around you.” Hajime ran a hand through Nagito’s hair, straightening up a bit. Nagito smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. They’re good guys. I, er, I wasn’t the  _ coolest _ guy ever growing up, y’know? Other than Chiaki, I didn’t have too many friends. But they kinda make up for it. They’ve got enough personality for that many people, that’s for sure.” He laughed, a sound that brought some warmth to the cold interior of Nagito’s ribcage. He leaned into Hajime. He was tired, but more than that, he just wanted to take in Hajime. Crawl into his body and share his soul with him.  _ Hm. These are the kind of thoughts that would perturb Hajime. _ Nagito closed his eyes, hearing Hajime’s heartbeat through his chest and sighing. 

* * *

 

The next morning, Hajime disentangled himself from Nagito, who had been especially clingy in his sleep that night. Nagito blinked groggily, trying to pull Hajime back into the warmth of the bed. It was a difficult offer to turn down, but he couldn’t lose his job with everything else going on. “Please,  _ please _ keep yourself safe. I-If you panic or anything else happens, just- just call me, okay?” He mumbled, leaning over Nagito, who just opened his eyes a bit more and nodded. He grabbed Hajime’s hand gently and pressed a kiss to it. Hajime blinked, feeling a slight flush creep across his cheeks. Nagito opened his mouth, about to pull Hajime’s fingers into it, but Hajime let out a sad sound of defeat. Nagito grinned and let go of him, closing his eyes again. 

“You better not be late for work.” He mumbled slyly and then turned on his side. Hajime wrapped the blanket back around him and dressed in his usual suit, glancing in the mirror as he got ready. He looked tired. It took Hajime three tries to muster the courage to leave Nagito alone for the day. He ended up forcing himself to leave, because he was starting to go mad realizing everything in his house that could be used as a weapon on oneself.  _ Maybe I should babyproof my house. Would he be offended by that? Well offended is better than dead, at least. _ Hajime didn’t stop thinking about Nagito for his drive to work, stopping himself from turning around and leaving at every four way stop. 

It felt like a miracle that he managed to get to the school and he parked his car, grabbing his bag and walking wearily to his classroom. One of his students was already there. Hiyoko Saionji. He held back his groan. Hiyoko was his least favorite student. But then again, her insistence that he was absolutely as dull and boring as possible had resulted in him meeting Nagito in the first place. He said a quick good morning, but she just gave him a look. He sighed and sat at his desk, opening his phone to make sure Nagito hadn’t sent anything. Only the time, 6:57, displayed itself on the screen. He sighed in relief and set up the lesson for the day. 

Students slowly shuffled in until the bell rang at 7:30 and he started class. His first hour was his worst hour. It was too early for most of them to pay attention, so they often acted out or ignored him. Even the final hour of the day was better. “Alright, so we’re officially done with the Divine Comedy, what did everyone think?” As he spoke, Hajime started to realize he was also very distracted. Maybe too distracted. The class mumbled a response. “If you got Dante’s chance to visit the underworld, what would you do differently?” One of the teacher’s pets raised her arm up high, waving it slightly for effect. Hajime nodded and she spoke.

“Spend more time with Virgil.” She nodded and Hajime stood up straighter. It wasn’t a response he’d been anticipating. Most students said something about wanting to kick some random historical figure in the head or said they’d be nicer to the shades, but no one had ever mentioned Virgil.

“Elaborate.”

“Well, Dante loved Virgil, didn’t he? He idolized him. If I was him, I would have tried to at least spend some more time with him before he had to stop guiding him because he couldn’t go to paradise. It just seemed strange to me is all.” She shrugged. A few of her classmates nodded, one let out a snore, and the rest had blank stares. Hajime felt his knees almost buckle.

“I, er-yeah. Yes. If, um, if you care about someone… You should stay with them.” Hajime stared at the floor. His student gave him a curious glance and Hiyoko rolled her eyes. Hajime looked at his hands.  _ You’re only five minutes in. Pull yourself together. _ “O-okay, new question. Um, great comment. Okay, er, so… If someone only has a certain amount of, erm, time with someone left… What should they do?”

“Is this like, a trick question? Or do you have personal issues?” Hiyoko grumbled, popping a piece of candy into her mouth from her backpack. Hajime turned to her.

“What would you do?” He asked quietly, putting a hand on her desk. Hiyoko frowned, leaning back. 

“Ugh. This sucks. I don’t know.” She snapped, crossing her arms. Normally, he’d send her to the office or give her a warning, but Hajime felt too desperate. Too wrong. She sighed and looked back at him. “I’d spend it with them or whatever. Is that the answer you want?” 

Hajime blinked once. Twice. He shoved his notes in his bag and slung it around his shoulder. “I have to go. Answer questions five through thirteen in your packet.” He left without another word, hearing the murmuring and muttering behind him. Hajime strode down the hall until he reached Sonia’s office and he knocked on the door. She answered.

“Mr. Hinata? Don’t you have a first hour right now?” She frowned. 

“I need an extended leave.”

“No. This is a school, not a diner, you can’t just take leave like that. Who’s teaching your class right now?” She looked behind him, like she was expecting someone, but he stood firm. 

“With all due respect Principal Nevermind, my boyfriend is going to die and I just, want-  _ need _ to take some time off, okay?” Hajime’s words were too fast and too much. Sonia just watched him, confused and alarmed.  _ Does she even understand what I’m talking about?  _ “Either… Either I get time off or I quit.” He announced, doing his best to hide the tremor in his voice. 

“Mr. Hinata, I… I am sorry for that terrible news, but there’s policies and regulations about time off and warnings and-” He was growing nervous. Maybe he shouldn’t have made the threat about quitting. He clenched a fist.

“I have the highest overall grades of any teacher in this school, I don’t think you want to lose me.” His voice was more frustrated than he’d intended it to be. Sonia’s eyes narrowed, looking decidedly unhappy with his tone and inability to understand that he needed to give them a warning. 

“As I said before, Mr. Hinata,” her voice was carefully controlled and neutral. “We need a week long warning to give you that much time off. You don’t have tenure yet, so requesting an extended absence so suddenly is a luxury that few teachers have. And I should add that Mr. Tanaka actually surpassed you this past month in his students’ GPA averages-”

“And you will lose him as well, unless you acquiesce.” Gundham appeared behind Hajime, arms folded.

“You have a class right now, too!” Sonia grumbled. Gundham smiled a head shake in response.

“Ah, do not fear, mortal. I have left our classes in great care. Souda is instructing Hajime’s literature class during his free period-”

“I didn’t know he… y’know… reads.” Sonia frowned.  _ He doesn’t. _ Hajime bit back his response. Gundham continued, seemingly unaware of the interruption. 

“And my class, well… let’s just say, my students are learning more in this hour than they ever will again.” He smirked, rubbing his chin excitedly. “That is, if they survive.”

Sonia let out a choking sound, rubbing her temples. “What the fuck is going on?” She asked, sitting down at her desk and lacing her fingers together. Hajime hesitated, before taking a breath and explaining everything. 

“I-I… I have recently been made aware that my boyfriend is terminally ill… I just… want to be with him these last few months. Please, Sonia, I’m begging you.” He dropped her first name, hoping it had any effect. She chewed on her bottom lip, suddenly looking to Gundham. Some sort of silent exchange happened between them that Hajime tried desperately and failed to understand. Sonia closed her eyes, reaching into a drawer in her desk as she opened them again. She dug through a file organizer and pulled out a folder.

“Here. If the state finds out, you’re fired, so… be careful.” She handed them over and Hajime read the top line. “Extended Leave Documents.” He felt a light stinging in his eyes and a wobbly smile crossed his face. 

“Thank you.  _ Thank you _ .” He flipped the folder open, signing every signature mark as fast as he could. “I-I’ll call in a sub for my next hours.” He nodded, backing out of the room with Gundham. When the door was closed, he grabbed Gundham’s shoulder. “I owe you. Big time. You’re, like, actually a miracle worker, thank you.” 

“It was simply the dark will of causality, my friend.” Gundham shook his head, walking with Hajime to the school exit. 

“How did you know what I was doing?”

“One of your students made me aware of it. I told Souda to take your class and I, of course, left the four dark Devas of destruction for my own students. They are, by any means, the only mortals who could handle being taught by such powerful creatures. I hide my true form to stop myself from vaporizing them with my cursed presence.” His words felt serious and Hajime wondered how much was a joke and how much he truly believed. He realized it didn’t matter. Even if Gundham completely believed he was a rubber duck, Hajime would still respect him. Gundham was the sort of person that demanded respect just with their own existence. They passed by Hajime’s class and they peered in, to see what Souda’s version of English class looked like. 

“No, dude, Zero Engineering’s T5 is the fucking sickest bike ever- oh, sorry! It’s the  _ flipping _ sickest bike ever. Gotta be school appropriate and all that. Okay, so, uh… If Shakespeare had a gnarly bike, what would he have?” He asked the class, starting to draw complicated schematics on the board. Hajime held back a laugh. He loved his friends. He really did.

* * *

 

Nagito was both terrified and excited to have the house to himself. He’d been excited at one point, about how scared of himself he was, but that excitement had turned into an exhaustion. More of a neverending frustration with the part of him that constantly tried to push him into hurting himself. But he was glad to have some time to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t been alone since he jumped and he was too afraid to face himself while Hajime was still there. In truth, he wasn’t sure he’d stopped shaking since he’d jumped. 

He’d meant what he’d said to Hajime. It was the first time he’d regretted it. Nagito had hurt himself or let someone else do the dirty work of it so many times. He’d never looked back and wished he hadn’t, and yet the moment he’d seen Hajime throw that door open, he felt like icicles were stabbing through every part of him.  _ I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die _ playing in his head like a mantra.  _ I made a mistake. _

Nagito had been surprised Hajime hadn’t seen through him immediately. He had been grateful at the time, but felt a sting too small to really be called hurt. More of a disappointment. When he saw the lights go out in Hajime’s house, he’d driven to Hope’s Peak Academy, triple checking he’d left  _ The Lucifer Effect _ with the right bookmarks. He’d spent awhile, just walking through the classrooms and remembering his high school days.  _ When they find out I threw myself off of our old building, they’ll at least remember me. I’ll still be the kid who just got lucky, but I’ll take up a little, microscopic piece of their brains for the rest of their lives. How amazing is that? _ He sat on the rooftop for almost an hour. He didn’t cry. He wouldn’t let himself. He just thought. Nagito’s mind flashed through his past, but somehow, they just kept landing back on Hajime. But he knew better. Hajime had already suffered through Chiaki’s death, hadn’t he? Forcing him to go through something even mildly comparable would be despicable on Nagito’s part.  _ What a joke I am. Even when Hajime uses me as a way to cope with his own grief, I up and die on him _ . Nagito laughed inwardly. The world was a dark and disappointing place, but its sense of humor was one that Nagito could understand. He’d finally the mustered the courage and then heard his own name. He took a step off the ledge and suddenly there was Hajime. The pain on his face was enough to stop Nagito. Stop him from doing it again. At least for a little while. 

_ I can’t even do a suicide right. _ Nagito thought bitterly, throwing a toy for Scruffy, coming back to the present time. Hajime’s sink was stacked with dishes, so Nagito stood up, rolled up his sleeves, and started rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher, almost mechanically. At the very least, he could be of use to Hajime in helping him clean. Judging by the state of his home, Nagito was worried Hajime didn’t know  _ how _ to clean.

The front door swung open.  _ Hm? A burglar. That’s exciting.  _ Nagito wondered absently, putting a cup into the top rack. Hajime stepped into the kitchen. He froze in the doorway, a newly pained look on his face.  “Ah, were the dishes left out on purpose? I didn’t mean to-”

“N-no. I, um, nothing. Sorry.” Hajime said with the look he gave Nagito when he was scared of hurting him. “Thank you for, uh, doing the dishes. I… talked to the principal and I’m taking some time off work. So we can, y’know, spend time together… Or whatever. Yeah.” He stammered through his response. Nagito smiled warmly. 

“I hope it won’t cause trouble for you at work.”

“Um, no. No. Gundham kind of took care of that.” Hajime scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly, glancing around the room. Nagito suddenly coughed, grabbing the counter and lurching forward. He covered his mouth, coughing again. He felt a tearing sensation inside of him with each cough.  _ Am I really getting this weak? I suppose I don’t have very long, then. _ He quickly wiped his hand on his jeans, hiding the blood from Hajime. “Nagito?!” Hajime rushed forward, but Nagito took a panicked step away. 

“I-I’m fine. Could you hand me a glass of wat-” He hadn’t finished sentence yet, when Hajime reached for the glasses and started to fill one with water, hurriedly. Nagito reached behind himself and took a pill from his bottle while Hajime was distracted. He popped it into his mouth before Hajime turned around and quickly swallowed it with the water Hajime gave him. He didn’t think Hajime would like to know that he was taking them more often. His doctor had told him to do it if the pain got worse. Nagito had held off at first, but it was harder to pretend to be alright in front of Hajime when the pain was too bad. He drank the water quickly and then thanked Hajime.  _ Should I worry? They said blood was a bad sign. But Hajime will see through me if I lie, I’m sure. So it’s best to avoid worrying.  _ Nagito felt a cool hand cover his forehead.

“You don’t have a fever.” Hajime said ina  hopeful voice. Nagito loved that hope inside him. He wished it could be founded something that might actually come to pass. 

“It’s not a cold,Hajime.” He cracked a sad little grin and then wished he could take it back from the hurt look on Hajime’s face.  _ Ah. I shouldn’t have reminded him. It’s a shame I’ll never get the chance to truly understand how to talk with Hajime. _

“How, um, how are you feeling?” Hajime asked, leaning against the counter. Nagito took a step forward to rest the side of his head on Hajime’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about me.”

Hajime groaned. “Please tell me that’s a joke.” He put a hand on Nagito’s head, petting his hair. For how wild and brittle it was, Nagito’s hair was surprisingly soft.  _ Find a distraction. He’s getting nervous about you.  _ Nagito pulled Hajime into a kiss, feeling the counter press up suddenly behind him. Hajime hesitated for a moment, but he kissed back. Nagito slipped gracefully onto the counter, Hajime pushing him towards it. He was expecting sex, but Hajime just pressed his forehead to Nagito’s chest, his arms a comforting weight around his waist. He stayed there for a while, only even reacting slightly when Nagito finally let his hands settle ln Hajime’s shoulders, lightly. Hajime took an audible breath, some of the visible tension leaving his shoulders. “I love you.” He sighed. Nagito froze, hands on Hajime’s shoulders clenching. He’d thought Hajime would’ve given that up since he realized Nagito wasn’t permanent.  _ Hajime usually has common sense; I’m not sure why he’s foolish enough to think he’s in love with me. _ “I… I know what you’re thinking. Don’t. Please.” Hajime finally looked back up at Nagito, the fingers of his hands hooked behind Nagito were fidgeting a little.

“I’m sorry.” Nagito mumbled, looking away and removing his hands from Hajime. Hajime closed his eyes, looking frustrated. “I… Do you not want me to be sorry?” He blinked, confused. 

“I just want you to take me seriously. I want you to believe me.” Hajime shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he spoke. 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Nagito wasn’t sure how to respond. He was never really entirely sure how he was supposed to react but this was worse than usual. It had been hard finding the right words since he’d jumped. This apology seemed  to bother Hajime even more, so Nagito shut his mouth. 

“You don’t need to apologize. You really don’t. This isn’t your fault. At least, I think. I don’t know, really, anymore.” Hajime sighed and finally leaned away from Nagito. “Do you… Do you think you’ll  _ ever _ believe me? Or-or at least understand that I believe I do?” His eyes were large as he watched and waited. 

_ How am I supposed to respond? What am I supposed to say? I don’t understand. I  _ never _ understand this game. _ Nagito opened his mouth and then closed it, thinking longer on his words. “I-I believe that you love me, I just don’t… I don’t understand why that is.” He finally settled on an answer, pleased and surprised to see Hajime’s response. 

“Okay. Okay, that’s good. That’s, um, better off than I thought. But, er, well, you love me, so why is to so hard for you to understand my love for you?” Hajime seemed as lost in his footing as Nagito, eyes cautious and hands still twitching with tension. 

“It’s different that way, Hajime.” Nagito laughed, a breathless sound devoid of true amusement or humor. “I… am selfish. I just pined after you relentlessly until you let me in and then I used you. I’m… sick. In more than one way, Hajime. I’m sure you understand that by now. I loved you because of what you would let me do and that hope you gave me and then your patience and your kindness were… astounding. I couldn’t help myself, as much as I wanted to. Do you understand, Hajime? It’s okay if you don’t, but I think you’re smart enough to get it. I was never patient with you. I never treated you with a kindness that you hadn’t witnessed before. I was there to be helped by you, not perform any of my own healing on you. We’re different.” 

“No, you’re wrong. I disagree.” Hajime blurted out almost immediately, looking surprised at his own response. Nagito waited for him to explain, but was met with a few seconds of silence. “I just mean… Shit. I don’t even know how to explain this to you.” Hajime climbed up to sit on the counter with Nagito. “You… You might not  _ feel _ like you’ve helped me, but you have. A lot. Before you, I, er, I didn’t ever really plan on actually…  _ caring _ about someone this way. Anyone. I’m not always the best with, I don’t even know, communication? Is that the right word?” Hajime blinked and swallowed. His words were starting to be clearer, fueled by his confidence from not being interrupted. “But you actually made me want to try again. After Chiaki died, I-I fell apart, Nagito. I don’t know if you would even recognize me. I was a complete mess. But, y’know, for how crazy you were and how weird everything started out, it was a breath of fresh air. I never felt like I had to put on a show for you. Pretend to be fine. Pretend to be functioning. There was a freedom in knowing that you chose me before I even got the chance to know you, because yo somehow… you somehow  _ knew so much _ before I even really talked to you. I know that, we uh, both struggle to understand each other sometimes. I know that. But...I think you understand me a lot better than you realize.” Hajime was starting to speak quickly. He didn’t usually talk this much. Especially not when Nagito was around, filling the silence with words. 

“I… I-I understand you? You think I do?” Nagito’s eyebrows were drawn up his forehead and Hajime couldn’t decide if he couldn’t believe Hajime’s stupidity or if he was actually finally catching on. He took a breath.

“Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course.” Nagito nodded eagerly, eyes wide. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he was getting curious. He didn’t dare face the cocktail of thoughts his head was mixing for him as they spoke. He couldn’t yet.

“I was so pissed that day, because… Okay, it’s dumb. But I was pissed because a student called me boring. And there are a lot of insults I’ll ignore, but ‘boring’ stung for some reason. I think… I think it was because I needed to be different. I  _ needed _ to be special. I still do. But I couldn’t see that in myself. I was just bitter and pissed. And then when you came over for dinner that one night, you said that. I remember it so clearly. You asked me if I was afraid of being boring. You just…  _ understood _ .” Hajime did his best to ignore Nagito’s trembling figure because he knew if he made eye contact he’d stop. His words would run out and Nagito’s ranting would start and they’d be back at square one for the millionth fucking time. “The last six months have been… wild. I’ve done and seen and said things I never thought I’d have to. Never thought I’d get the chance to. You and I both know some of those times weren’t the best. Some of them were dark and confusing and frustrating as all get out. But I don’t think there’s another person on the planet I’d have chosen to spend them with other than you. I really don’t. So yes. I love you. More than I should given the circumstances, but fuck it. You always say you’re a hard person to love, but I think you’re a harder person to fall out of love with.”  _ Oh God, that’s cliche.  _ Hajime realized as he finished.  _ That’s terrible and cliche and oh God, he’s gonna be upset.  _ But Nagito stared at him, unblinking with his mouth in a little “o” shape.The gears in his head were almost visible as he thought, emotions flashing across his face so fast.  _ Too fast? _

“I love you, too.” He finally mumbled, lips shaking. Hajime’s eyes went wide. The words themselves hadn’t left his mouth, but that little phrase had been a hidden surrender.  _ He accepts it. Accepts that I love him. _ Hajime smiled wide until his face hurt, pulling Nagito into a quick hug. 

“Thank you, Nagito.” He watched the smile creep up Nagito’s face in return and he felt like Christmas lights, glowing and exuberant in their brightness.

* * *

 

Apparently, Nagito had never seen  _ Pulp Fiction. _ Or, at least that’s what he claimed over their dinner discussion. Hajime added it to the bucket list. “We’re going to the store now. I’ve got the movie, we just need popcorn.” He shook his head, solemnly. “ _ Who hasn’t seen Pulp Fiction?! _ ” He turned to Nagito. “Oh my God. What if you had died without ever seeing  _ Pulp Fiction _ ? I don’t even want to think about that.” 

Nagito’s laugh was light. Happier than usual. It was a breath of fresh air. They drove to the store and wandered the aisles until they found popcorn. They were checking out when Hajime’s eyes flicked to the lottery stand behind the register. “Hey, you should buy one. You’re lucky, right? Maybe we’ll win big.” He laughed. Nagito didn’t even realize he most likely wouldn’t be alive to collect his earnings anyway when he bought the scratch ticket. He was in a good mood and the oppressive thoughts that usually snuck their way in had been banished somewhere else for the time being.

The drive home was littered with haphazard singing along to the radio and a debate about sweet versus savory snacks. Scruffy barked excitedly when they came home, tail wagging as he smelled the butter of the popcorn. While Hajime microwaved the popcorn, Nagito pulled a quarter from his pocket and started scratching the ticket. He scratched the right side off, first, revealing a few letters, but not enough to piece the message together. He finished scratching it off and frowned. “Looks like your luck ran out!” The ticket seemed falsely apologetic, but he stuck it to the fridge, anyway. 

“Wait, don’t scratch it.” Hajime was on his phone, scrolling through something. “Apparently the company’s a scam. They get your information through fake wins.” He looked up and saw the losing ticket already pinned by a magnet. He laughed a little and pulled the popcorn from the microwave, wincing a little at the heat and emptying it into a bowl. He tossed a few pieces to Scruffy, watching him jump for them. Nagito did a golf clap when Scruffy managed to catch one in the air. 

After blankets were thrown down, they settled on the floor in front of Hajime’s couch. The opening scene started and Misirlou started playing soon after, drums and guitar blaring through Hajime’s speaker. On the upbeat of the song, Hajime felt a hand on his thigh and he almost jumped. He looked at Nagito, but his pale eyes were trained on the screen with a precision too strong to be incidental. The hand on his thigh crawled upwards- “Nagito?” Hajime finally shot him a glance. Nagito turned to look at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Hm? Is something wrong, Hajime?” He asked demurely, tilting his head as he spoke. Hajime cursed whatever entity out there had decided to make Nagito so damn good at doing _that_. He wasn’t entirely sure what “that” was, but he did know that it gave Nagito way too much ammunition. No one should be able to look that cute and innocent at the drop of a hat. 

“I, er,” he took a breath, abandoning the pretense of suavity as the slowly moving hand finally grazed the front of his jeans. “Should we really, y’know…?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to explain more in depth.” Nagito raised an eyebrow and Hajime gritted his teeth.  _ Okay. He’s playing this game. Great. Lovely.  _ Hajime sighed.  _ Fine. Two can play at that game. _

“Hmm. Never mind then, I guess.” He shrugged and turned back to the screen. He felt a swell of pride catching Nagito’s disappointment out of the corner of his eye. The other man hesitated for a bit and then looked at Hajime.

“Is Hajime scared of talking about sex?” He raised his response, waiting for Hajime to fold. His tone gave away the little scratched surface beneath his playful innocence. Hajime hummed, shrugging again.

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were talking about sex.” He didn’t move his eyes away from the screen; He was going to have the last word if it killed him. Nagito seemed almost amused or excited by Hajime’s willingness to play into his little game. Whatever emotion it was, it was having a stronger effect on Hajime than he hoped Nagito realized.

“Ah, I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed. I must have  _ misread _ the situation.” Nagito sent a pointed glance downward and Hajime frowned, realizing  _ exactly _ what Nagito was making reference to. Luckily it was too dark for anyone to see him turn beet red. 

“Uh, it’s weird when he’s here.” Hajime nodded at Scruffy, who barked amicably and fell asleep soon after. It was a weak excuse. He knew it painfully well as he felt it leave his mouth. He had hope that maybe Nagito wouldn’t understand. He was bad reading people, anyway. But Nagito smiled, small and bitter with something…  _ different _ lurking behind it.

“You’re afraid of hurting me. I’m sickly now.” He said it as a fact, not a question. Somehow that was worse. Hajime didn’t even get a chance to shoot it down. “But I’ve told you before, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Well…  _ I _ would.” He blinked back. Nagito’s smile slowly dissolved. The thought of causing him any more pain or destruction than necessary was of higher important to him than his need to get his dick wet. He at least had that little shred of pride left. 

“Hm.” Was Nagito’s only response for a little while. They watched the movie again, disrupted only by some light snoring from Scruffy’s sleeping form. Nagito leaned on Hajime, warm cheek pressed against his shoulder. He turned just slightly, placing a kiss on Hajime’s neck where his shirt ended. It was an affectionate gesture. Harmless.  _ Or maybe I’m just telling myself that. _ Hajime frowned. Nagito kissed his neck again, this time going for more than a simple peck. His lips were even warmer than his cheek had been, pressing right over his jugular. That thought sent mixed messages to Hajime and he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t Nagito. He didn’t  _ get off _ on… Weird things. But before he had time to dwell on it, Nagito’s tongue was licking a stripe up his neck to his jaw and he caved. He knew as well as Nagito that he couldn’t resist. If he had any shred of self control in him, their first rendez-vous would’ve never even happened. That single piece of shrapnel left in his mind that he’d put his pride in was walking out the door, all smiles and laughs. He knew he’d feel guilty later. Knew Nagito would pick up on the guilt and blame himself. But God knew what a wreck at trying to get himself to stop anything Hajime was. 

“O-okay. We can, um,  _ compromise.”  _ Hajime finally looked away from the movie, leaning slightly over Nagito, who was raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t follow.”

“Just… Just…” Hajime shut his eyes. He didn’t want to explain. He pressed his lips to Nagito’s, feeling him push against the couch behind them. Nagito’s hands drifted upwards, cupping Hajime’s face. Nagito felt Hajime’s tongue enter his mouth and he smiled through the kiss. Hajime bit into Nagito’s lips without warning, pulling a surprised little gasp from him. As a kid, he’d wanted a photographic memory so he could do better in school. Now, he wanted one so that he’d never even have a chance of forgetting the way Nagito sounded when he gasped like that. Fortunately, Nagito was more compliant than usual. Less nails and unpredictable ideas. He still somehow managed to be over excited even his mellowed-out state.

There was usually a flurry of hands and mouths and  _ friction _ by this point with them, but Hajime was actually glad this was different. Softer. Slower. He’d never felt as strong of a need to be gentle with Nagito. Or to take his time. From their first time together, he’d always assumed there’d be more time. Hajime hesitated a moment, instinctively pulling away when he realized the severity of what was his crossing his mind. Nagito watched him, eyes wide and curious. He opened his mouth. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Not everything is your fault. Most things  _ aren’t _ actually.” Hajime spoke quickly, cursing himself for ruining the moment with his hesitation. The wry grin that greeted Hajime in response felt like a punch to the gut. 

“Ha…  _ Ha _ .” Nagito seemed unbothered by his own self-deprecation.  _ But when is he ever? I suppose. Ugh. I just want him to… to realize a  _ little _ of his own potential at least. Just do something before the end.  _

“Name something that’s your fault.” Hajime challenged, putting a hand down to steady himself as he leaned back over Nagito, whose eyes had become nervous. They flickered for a second, like they were stuttering, trying to decipher what kind of game Hajime was playing with the situation.  _ I wish he understood.  _ Hajime found himself thinking desperately.  _ I wish he understood that not everyone plays games with their heads so much. _

“It… It’s my fault that you’ll be sad when I die.” Nagito’s voice started so incredibly quiet it was barely audible and by the time his sentence finished, he’d gained back his stride, voice as confident as it could be. Hajime’s hand dipped under Nagito’s shirt, feeling the warm skin on his sides. 

“No. Your illness isn’t your fault now, is it? Did you ask for it? Give it to yourself?” He only let his gaze meet Nagito’s for a second. Eye contact seemed to do more harm than good when it came to him, so he had to be careful. He wasn’t sure if Nagito knew he’d lost that point or if he’d decided it wasn’t worth the hassle of arguing, because he moved on to his next one. 

“If I had better luck, my parents wouldn’t have died.”

“Not even related.” Hajime sighed, shifting downward on the floor to press his lips to the piece of skin he’d revealed on Nagito’s hips. Nagito gasped again. Small. Light. Hajime looked up, head tilted. He knew he wasn’t Nagito’s level of playing innocent, but damn he could try his best at it. “Hm? That’s it?” He asked, Nagito let out a tiny noise, visibly struggling to decide between his options. He went with the one Hajime had anticipated, looking away and settling on another false deed. 

“It’s my fault you’re still scared about me killing myself.” His breathing shook a little, jumping when he couldn’t. Hajime played with his waistband, starting to pull it back just enough to make Nagito squirm under him. 

“No. You were scared and you did what you felt you had to. I worry ‘cause I care. That’s my own fault.” Hajime let the elastic go with a  _ snap _ , finally making Nagito jump a little. Hajime busied himself with the flat of Nagito’s stomach, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. 

“I make you sad sometimes.”

“Mmm. But you make me happier than you do sad.” Hajime murmured, finally pulling Nagito’s pajama pants down enough to reveal his underwear, palming him. Nagito’s hand found its way to Hajime while the other snagged between Nagito’s teeth. 

“I try to hurt you.”

“You try to hurt everything.” Hajime almost frowned. He took Nagito in his mouth, slightly nervous. They’d never done this before. It had always been the reverse or something different, and he knew how well the last time they’d tried something new had gone. But he was at least thirty percent sure this would be less terrifying for both of them. Then again, he wasn’t exactly as experienced as Nagito and teeth were kind of a thing. However, when Nagito hissed loudly, back arching almost immediately, Hajime felt less nervous. Nagito made up for his need to make every menial task difficult with how easy he was in bed. Easy to arouse. Easy to  _ solve _ . That overflow of emotion and passion had to pour out somewhere, Hajime reasoned. 

Hajime closed his eyes, doing his best to try and think of what Nagito did to him. What he was supposed to do. His mind felt blank, but he did his best. Hajime knew with certainty (and had expected) that he wouldn’t be as messily passionate and excited as Nagito about giving head, but he figured Nagito wouldn’t expect it of him, either. Nagito, on the other hand, was as much of a wreck as ever. When the situation dawned on him and his mind had time to make itself heard over his dick, he scrambled at the blankets. “ _Hajime, you_ really _don’t have_ _to_ -” He started, voice cracking.

“Shut up.” Hajime cut him off, turning back to more pressing matters. He was anxious enough, he didn’t need Nagito trying to convince him out of it or he really would. Nagito nodded, the hand he was biting on suddenly becoming almost a gag as he bit down hard enough on himself to leave dark red marks across the flat of his palm. 

Hajime bobbed his head, hoping he wasn’t make as much of a fool of himself as he felt he was. Nagito’s hips suddenly jerked forward and a plethora of apologies followed, but Hajime ignored them, resisting the urge to grit his teeth for obvious reasons and pinning Nagito down with one arm. He’d read somewhere that blowjobs were easier when you used a hand and  _ it makes sense, right? Right? I’m probably doing this wrong. Shit.  _

His only experience had been a drunk rebound after Chiaki had died, in college. It had gone about as well as Hajime had figured it would and was not an experience he liked to reflect on. Ever. Maybe he was bad in bed, who knew? But that had been the only time where him giving head had come up and he was wondering _how the hell Nagito got so good at it?_ _Is there some secret code to oral sex that I’m unaware of?_ Either Nagito had a lot of experience or he was a fast learner. Hajime didn’t feel like either applied to him. He got the courage to look up at Nagito and was pleasantly surprised. The hand that had been grasping at Hajime was now an arm thrown over his eyes, skin underneath it flushed such a brilliant red that Hajime almost stopped to admire the beauty of it. He knew Nagito was probably overreacting because it was _him_ , but it felt nice. He liked knowing how far he could bring Nagito like this. Nagito’s eyes suddenly snapped open with a panicked expression. _Shit I probably grazed him, didn’t I?_

Nagito just grasped wildly for a few seconds, mouth opening in a warning that never came. Hajime hadn’t been anticipating this early of a release and he was caught off guard when he tasted bitterness and it took him a moment to realize what had happened.  _ Jeez, he always swallows this?  _ It wasn’t as bad as Hajime had thought, but still not… the most pleasant taste he’d ever come across. Nagito recovered for a moment, eyes blank and unseeing, hands calm and gentle as they dug into the blankets. And then suddenly he was back, a whimper tearing itself from the back of his throat. “I… I didn’t warn you.” He stammered, raising a hand. Hajime hoped his chest was heaving from his orgasm rather than his newfound stress. 

Hajime looked him dead in the eye and swallowed. Nagito let out a strangled noise somewhere on the fine line of arousal and darker emotions. Hajime wanted to cringe at his terrible way of trying to prove the point, but Nagito seemed to understand it. Hajime reached for his pop can next to him and took a swig before some force pulled him forward, embracing him tightly. He almost spit out the soda in his mouth, but caught himself, swallowing again and setting the can down. There was the sound of gunfire and he turned back to the screen, watching a character get shot. When he turned back to Nagito, the realization that he’d just sucked his dick dawned on him and he felt a sudden need to try and explain his actions as best he could. Which was not very well. “I, erm, I… I’m sorry that probably sucked.” Was his half-assed attempt.

Nagito coughed once, blinking before locking eyes with Hajime. “Does it looked like it ‘sucked?’” He gestured towards the effects of his afterglow and orgasm. Hajime snorted. 

“Point made.”

“I apologize, er… for probably not being the best participant. This was my, erm, first time recei-”

“What.” Hajime didn’t even have time to turn the word into a question, thoughts leaving his mouth before grammar could catch up with them. He was so surprised by the concept he didn’t have the mind to comment on Nagito’s phrasing it like a lab experiment, either. “But… But you… Nevermind.” He shook his head. Nagito somehow blushed more. It was funny seeing so much color on his usually pale face. 

“Ah, I’ve been told I have the sort of…  _ persona _ that makes people assume things. You’ve always been rather good at seeing through it, though, Hajime.” He looked down at his hands, a little smile playing on them. “I should, ah, thank you-”

Hajime moved closer to him and Nagito stopped talking. He laced their hands together and felt a light, airy feeling like a bird fly up in his chest as he watched an almost flustered blush cross Nagito’s face again.  _ He’s cute when he’s flustered.  _

They sat together like that for the rest of the movie and at the end, Hajime came to a sad realization. “You barely caught any of the movie, did you?”

“I had more pressing matters.” Nagito’s voice sent an exhilarated feeling down Hajime’s spine. “I, ah, I feel like a teenager again.”

“Oh, ‘cause the sex?” Hajime spoke and resisted the urge to slap himself.  _ Do I even, like, hear what comes out of my mouth, sometimes? Jesus Christ. _ Nagito blinked at the assumption, but just laughed it off. 

“Well, I suppose there is that. But I mean… Hm.” He closed his eyes, leaning his head onto the couch. “This was the sort of thing I dreamed about back then. You have… made an unattainable dream very real. It’s kind of you to. Between my…  _ sickly _ nature and my lack of friendships, I never assumed I’d have a chance at this sort of domestic happiness.” Nagito’s mumbled explanation made Hajime pull him even closer. He took a breath, breathing in Nagito’s scent and closing his eyes, too. 

“Yeah, well, we’ve got months ahead of us, don’t we? Let’s make every night a good one for you.” He kissed the top of Nagito’s head, reveling in the tiny squeak he made. 


	6. Bad Omens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry that this chapter is a little short! I hope you all enjoy it either way and have nice evenings! Thank you so much for reading, it really means a lot. Also-- after writing this chapter I ended up visiting the city I lived in when I was younger and saw the art museum where the real painting by Chaim Soutine (that I mention in this chapter) is located. It was beautiful in person!

The next two weeks passed by much faster than Hajime wanted them to. He remembered the first half hour he’d spent with Nagito, over those donuts he’d won with his luck six months ago. It had felt like hours, partially due to awkwardness and equally due to Nagito’s ability to make time seem so unreal. But now that the time actually mattered, it was flying by at the speed of light. (“That’s 299, 792, 485 meters per second!” He could almost hear Souda’s unhelpful addition in his mind.) And because of how fast the time passed, it made Nagito’s deterioration seem so fast. So inevitable. He was getting weaker with every day, despite his attempts to keep Hajime from knowing. He wasn’t sleeping or eating as much, and he was popping pills every time he thought Hajime wasn’t paying attention. Fortunately, neither of his weekly doctor visits had turned up anything too malignant. “That’s a good sign, Hajime!” Nagito had smiled brightly. “Very hopeful!” 

“Sure is.” Hajime nodded back.  _ Nothing’s a good sign anymore, Nagito. Don’t play me for dumb.  _ It hurt him to see Nagito’s desperate attempts at maintaining his hope. 

Hajime had been making a list for Nagito of everything he wanted the chance to do. Places he wanted to see or visit before, he…  _ before he… Shit.  _ Getting closer to the end was making it so much more real. Painful. Harder to spit out, like it was a fucking curse.  _ Maybe it is. _ Was Hajime’s brain’s only try at comforting himself. The day before his third doctor visit, they had gone to the art museum. 

“It’s very beautiful.” Nagito’s eyes darted to Hajime. He blinked. 

“Yeah, um, yeah, y- it is.” He stammered, looking at the painting for the first time. His eyes went wide. “Wait, shit no. Jesus Christ, that’s terrifying.” Hajime took a step back.  _ Carcass of Beef _ by Chaim Soutine. A cow was skinned and dissected, cut from top to bottom in a messy line. Blood and innards littered the painting with a dark red that Nagito’s eyes were trained on, reflecting it in their pale depths. Nagito smirked.

“Were you not paying attention, Hajime?” His voice was light and airy, like he was in on some joke that Hajime would never understand. 

“There are better things to look at.” Hajime frowned back. Nagito waited for him to gesture to another painting, but his gaze rested on him. Nagito blinked a few times and then took a step back, a small squeak escaping his lips. It was Hajime’s turn to smirk. Nagito stammered, eyes darting back to the gore on the wall. He took a breath.

“It’s because he, uh,  _ gagne sa vie. _ ” Nagito suddenly jumped in and stumbled over his words, quiet and timid despite their being alone in the room. 

“I, uh, what? Is that French?” Hajime had expected a flustered a reaction, not another language.

“Mhm. ‘To win one’s life,’ it’s a saying. Soutine grew up poor and he became unable to eat meat.” Nagito’s eyes scanned the painting’s description, but his words weren’t on it. He was going from memory, using his strange knowledge and philosophy as some sort of grounding for himself. “So when he became successful, he would buy carcasses and paint them, instead of eating them.  As a reminder that he’d won his life. I, ah,  _ studied _ him when I got my license to run the funeral parlor.” Nagito licked his lips, almost nervously. “It feels like that was so long ago, now.”

“What did… What did a painter have to do with funerals?” Hajime wasn’t going to pretend he followed the conversation. He usually just let Nagito make his points and if he understood them at all, join in the conversation. Nagito often seemed just as happy explaining as he did discussing. Nagito had said something once about how he’d never had anyone else to discuss these things with, and Hajime wondered if a life of penting up knowledge had resulted in his simply being happy with just talking. Hajime used to feel the same way when he explained book plots to Chiaki. Even if she didn’t truly grasp what it was he was trying to get at, the satisfaction of expressing it was enough. 

“Soutine kept his carcasses for days and days. They would rot and fester terribly. His neighbors called the police.” Nagito paused, laughing a little. “He created his own system of taxidermy and embalming. While it technically worked, it caused the organs and blood to lose their sheen and color. He’d pour fresh blood on them every time he painted. He thought the blood was beautiful.” Nagito turned back to Hajime with a small smile. “Sort of gross, isn’t it?” His laugh was tinkling and it hit Hajime with one of those rare feelings that Nagito was a regular person. A human being with normal emotions and followable thoughts. Hajime laughed with him. 

Nagito sat on a bench facing the painting, hands crossed neatly in his lap. Hajime sat with him, listening to the white noise of the museum. He wasn't sure how long they stayed there, but it was another one of those times where Nagito’s existence seemed to break time. Not smash it, just delicately take it apart and put it on a shelf so that it couldn’t work anymore. “I-” Hajime started, but Nagito cut him off with a small voice.

“Can we just stay here for a bit?” He asked, pieces of nervous strain poking through his neutral tone. There was also a glimmer of something else; something nicer, but Hajime just nodded.  _ He’s walked a lot today. He’s probably tired. Or scared. I don’t blame him.  _

Nagito held back a cough. It felt too loud and out of place in the quiet museum.  _ I need to rest, or I’ll look weak in front of him. Weaker than I already am.  _ The silence was overwhelming. Suffocating. Hajime must have felt it, too, because he shoved his hands into his pockets, digging until he found earbuds, handing one side to Nagito. “Um, here.” He said lamely. It took Nagito a second to take it from him and put it in his ear. It was just classical music. Nothing extraordinary or unique, but it was there. Ms. Akamatsu, the band teacher, had recommended songs to him. Hajime had heard the song a million times and he knew somewhere in his mind vaguely that it was pretty, but Nagito’s eyes were calm and pleasant, a smile crossing his face as soon as it started. They stayed there for a few minutes, until the music swelled and Nagito’s eyes went wide. He said nothing, but it almost felt like the music was surrounding the two of them.  _ How does he do that? How does he make the world seem surreal like this? Will it ever feel this way after he’s gone? _ It was one of those moments that sticks with someone. That every time they hear that song or stand in that room or see that ( _ still horrid  _ Hajime added) painting, they’ll feel like they stepped right back in time.  _ I hope he knows his impact. I really do. _

* * *

 

The next day was a doctor’s appointment and therapy for Nagito. Hajime waited in the doctor’s waiting room, as always. Nagito insisted he didn’t need to, but the thought of not being there the one time that Nagito got his bad news was too much to bear. He saw Mikan as she left the room and stopped her. “How is he?” He asked, trying to ignore her exaggerated startled reaction to him talking.

“I, well, he is okay. I-I’m sure the doctors are a better resource, but I-” she stopped at his firm gaze. “The way… The way his tumors are metastasizing is very rare. The patterns a-and the formations. I’m very sorry, I’m not really supposed to be discussing this. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s really alright.” Hajime sighed, looking past her to where Nagito was thanking his doctor and apologizing for the trouble of his weekly visits. Mikan was still apologizing in front of him and he sighed.  _ I just really do not get these people sometimes. _

As they walked to the car, Nagito hesitated. He glanced away and then back at Hajime. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Go with you where?”

“Ah, sorry, I should have specified more clearly. Would you like to come to therapy?” 

“Is that… Is that even something I’m allowed to do?” Hajime watched Nagito for lies on his face. There were none. Just quiet anxiety.

“He said it would be helpful. I didn’t want to wear you down, so I-”

“Alright, let’s go.” Hajime cut him off. “Not wearing me down at all. Really.” He started the car and they left. He usually tried to avoid back to back appointments for Nagito, but today was an unusual case. He drove to the office building where Nagito’s therapist’s office was. He’d never actually talked to the man, just heard brief, secretive comments from Nagito. He followed Nagito to the waiting room until the door opened and a tall man, taller than Nagito even, smiled happily.

“Nagito Komaeda, my favorite person!” He smiled even wider.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Momota.” Nagito mumbled.

“For the millionth time, call me Kaito.” He laughed. “You’re Hajime, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Kaito Momota, therapist to stars.” 

“Er, stars?” Hajime asked, pretending his hand didn’t hurt from how hard Kaito gripped. 

“All my patients are stars! Nagito, you’re a star, right?” He asked, holding the door open for both of them.

“Maybe a floating, unsightly piece of space rock.” Nagito offered. 

“Better than a black hole! Or space trash or something.” Kaito’s voice was loud and then suddenly quiet, leaning into Hajime. “That’s what he called himself last week.” Nagito looked thoroughly depressed at the fact he hadn’t realized he could reuse his insults towards himself. Kaito took a seat and they did, too. Kaito straightened his posture and locked eyes with Hajime. “I asked Nagito to invite you here because I’m having… Some  _ difficult _ y getting through to him, and from what I’ve heard, you’re sort of his security blanket. I think he’s more likely to feel safe if you’re here.” That sent a strange sense of pride down Hajime’s spine. Kaito took a sip of his coffee and when he set it down, his face was still jovial but much more serious than it had been before. “You’ve done a really great job at accepting death. That’s usually what I spend most of my time working on with patients, but you’ve got that down pat!” 

“He’s, um, good at that. Yeah.” Hajime wasn’t exactly sure how to respond.

“Hardly.” Nagito just frowned. Kaito sighed at him.

“That’s more of our issue. The, erm, self deprecation.” He said the words Hajime had been anticipating to hear the whole time. “Nagito, you realize you don’t have to punish yourself, right?”

“I… Er…” Nagito faltered.

“Do you learn anything from insulting yourself? Do you feel like it makes you better at the things you do?” Kaito’s gaze was intense, staring down Nagito. 

“...No.” He mumbled and looked away. Hajime squeezed his hand.  _ Those kind of things take a lot of confidence from him. I’m proud of him.  _

“So why do you do it?” Kaito’s question surprised Hajime.  _ That’s dumb. He’s seeing you to figure out why he does it.  _ But Nagito fidgeted.

“You insult things you dislike. I am a despicable little speck. I need a reminder.” The words were heavy. They seemed to laugh at the progress Nagito had made for the last half a year. Turning it into something inconsequential. A joke. 

“Do you think Hajime is a smart man?” Kaito asked, seemingly out of thin air. Nagito frowned and nodded. Kaito turned to Hajime. “Do you think Nagito is a ‘despicable speck’ and all that?”

“No, of course not.” He shook his head vigorously. Nagito looked at his figernails, still avoiding eye contact with either of them.  _ He’s nervous.  _

“Intelligent and wrong are not mutually exclusive.” He sighed. 

“Okay, I have an idea. Hajime, what is something you like about Nagito?” He leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of coffee. Hajime did his best not to hesitate. 

“He’s very smart. Um, like, intelligent.”  _ Yeah that sounds intelligent. Great going, Hajime.  _ He stuttered, thinking back to Nagito at the museum the day before. Nagito blinked like Hajime hadn’t said the same thing a million times. 

“The kind words are appreciated Hajime, but I’m afraid that’s not correct. I think maybe you mistake my inability to be quiet as knowledge.” His words were too fast. Kaito nodded at Hajime.

“When you talk, you always know a ton, though. Like, uh, yesterday, with that meat guy. I mean shit, your suicide note was from a reference book. And you went to an honors school-”

“I thought we had established that was purely luck.” He couldn’t resist interrupting. There was silence for a bit, besides the scratching of Kaito’s pen on a clipboard he pulled from seemingly nowhere. Hajime put a hand to his forehead, trying to think of how to even breach any of this with him. And ignore Kaito’s attentive listening.

“You… You know a lot. You’ve got to agree with that. Lying doesn’t count, either.” Hajime watched Nagito struggle internally, the conflict showing in his eyes. Sometimes he felt like if he could peel back his retinas, he’d see two little armies fighting to the death behind them. Nagito versus himself. The ever-constant battle. 

Nagito hesitated almost a full minute before he responded. “Okay. But that hardly means I’m intelligent-”

“Uh,  _ yeah _ , yeah it does.” Hajime furrowed his brow. Kaito clapped, loud and startling in the little room. 

“Nagito, that’s amazing! You accepted something!” Kaito tried to high five Nagito, but Nagito just blinked mutely at the gesture, like it was beyond his recognition. Hajime high fived Kaito so he’d put his hand down. “You’re one of the most interesting patients I’ve ever had. I mean, a lot of psychologists would  _ kill _ to get into your head.” That fact disturbed Hajime slightly, but Nagito’s eyes went wide.

“I can’t imagine they would…” He trailed off, but an excited look in his eyes gave him away.  _ Maybe he wants to be figured out. Or maybe it’s just weird enough for him to get into it. Or get off on it. Who knows at this point? _

* * *

 

When they got home, Nagito claimed he had something to do and retreated to their room quietly. Hajime settled into his favorite chair and pulled out some homework assignments to grade. He could at least help the sub with that. He unfortunately pulled out Hiyoko Saionji’s first, grimacing the moment he saw it. No words, just drawings of dicks and angry faces littered the page. The only place she’d even bothered to put on the pretense of doing any work was where she had circled a few multiple choice answers. He sighed unhappily and gave her a C. She’d at least turned it in. Besides, if he failed her, it meant having her back with him next year, too. He shuddered at the thought. 

He shuffled through a few more, not really thinking, just checking off the answers. The A he was trying to outline on a students paper turned into a simple diagonal line and he grumbled in frustration, shaking the pen to get more ink. It slipped in his hands and clattered to the ground, loudly. He froze. He hadn’t realized how silent it was. A bird chirped happily outside, its friends echoing back a chorus. The air conditioner was running white noise in the background and his ice machine clinked. But it was too silent. 

_ This is what it will be like. _

There were no mild sighs or bright hums of satisfaction. No apologies or strange questions. No self-deprecation that turned into antagonizing confidence in seconds. There was nothing. 

Nothing.

The bird chirped again, seeming garish and mocking in its too-content tone. Hajime twitched, eyes darting to the street through his window. The little part of him that made sense reminded him that Nagito had parked in the alley, but all he saw was the absence of his car. His eyes slowly,  _ nervously _ , changed direction, focusing on the couch. They had cleaned that morning; Nagito had put his usual stack of books away. Hajime took a shaky breath.

There had always been so much silence between the two of them. So many awkward pauses and affectionate glances and,  _ and…. _ This wasn’t silence. This was noise,  _ stupid, pointless, horrendous noise. White noise. Nothing. No good luck, no bad luck, and nothing in between. Just… noise.  _ Hajime felt his hands begin to tremble and he sat back up from trying to pick up his pen.  _ I’m gonna be alone again. The spot of me that Nagito took up is just going to be a gory, tar soaked hole of nothing.  _

_ Nothing.  _ Nothing.

Rien.

Zilch. Zip. Blank. Oblivion.  _ This is how it will feel when he’s gone. This is how empty I’ll spend every day being when he’s six feet under. I’m going to die just as much as he is.  _ Hajime choked on his thoughts, feeling like he’d been slapped in the face. A tear rolled down his face, turning into a torrential rainfall until he couldn’t see past it. He sank to the floor, digging at the carpet. Delirious. He needed to hear Nagito’s voice. See a tuft of white hair through the door to the kitchen. Feel one of his t shirts.  _ Something _ . Hajime sobbed, trying to wipe his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He was sobbing like a child, breath catching and heart lurching. There was a sound upstairs, but he didn’t hear it. He was checking under the sofa and over the coffee table, looking for any evidence of Nagito. Anything that proved he was just upstairs. That Hajime wasn’t suddenly in a world where he was dead and gone. 

The stairs creaked and Hajime finally spun around, wiping his eyes again and holding his breath. Nagito was halfway down the stairs, eyes wide and hand held aloft like he’d forgotten he’d raised it above the railing. The hallway light shining above him made him almost glow, standing uncertain and scared. Hajime would like to think  that he pulled himself together and apologized and forgotten he’d ever been so scared, but he couldn’t. He’d seen a glimpse of the future he was heading towards and he didn’t want it. He wouldn’t survive. His whole body trembled when he saw Nagito. As if finally coming to his sense, Nagito blinked back to reality and stepped quickly down the stairs, kneeling in front of Hajime. His terrified face gave away his incomprehension. He was lost. 

_ Did I do something wrong? Is Hajime hurt? _ Thoughts floated by, but none of them stuck out enough for him to grab at. Hajime seemed almost embarrassed, rubbing at his tears desperately, leaving red marks under his eyes. Nagito was shaking.  _ I don’t know what to do.  _ He filtered through the books he’d read, trying to find something that would tell him what to do. Why Hajime was upset. Why the world was this strange. While his thoughts preoccupied him, Nagito’s body acted on its own will, shuffling closer to Hajime and gripping one of his hands. 

Hajime grabbed the front of Nagito’s shirt and jacket, crying into them. Nagito put a hand on the back of his neck. “I-I don’t want a world without you.” Hajime finally whimpered into Nagito’s chest. 

_ There is nothing I can say. He knows when I lie. There’s no way for me to comfort him. I’m useless. This life has caused too much pain. _ Nagito didn’t protest to Hajime pulling him even closer, until it was hard to tell where one of them started or ended. Nagito felt his brain go blank. He was out of his element. He was usually the mess. Not Hajime. “I-I’m sorry Nagito, I’m sorry-” Hajime started, but Nagito didn’t hear him. He curled up next to Hajime, waiting until he felt the heat of him press against his side. Comforting in a way Nagito had never thought he’d known. 

Nagito could remember clearly the first time someone had ever touched him like that. With no pretenses or expectations. Just an affection of the purest form. A friend had fallen asleep on his shoulder in high school. Nagito had stayed perfectly still for nearly two hours to let them sleep. He’d held his breath, guessing he’d never feel someone be that casual with him again. At least not without a reason. 

But Hajime wrapped himself around Nagito, shaking into his shoulders with the tears he was doing a terrible job of hiding. Nagito stayed still. He listened closely until he could hear Hajime’s heartbeat, steadily thumping away. Hajime had stopped crying. Nagito pressed his face into Hajime’s shoulder, mumbling silently into the fabric of his shirt.  _ It will be okay. _ The words weren’t true. They weren’t genuine or even lame speculation. Just a simple formality based on years of repetition. But he hoped the sentiment reached Hajime all the same. 

After a while, Hajime pulled away, face pale and eyes dark. “I… I’m sorry. I think it just kind of  _ hit _ me, y’know? You’re so alive and you’re so much that’s it’s… easy to forget what’s coming sometimes. But I-I shouldn't be the one crying. You’re going through so much more-”

“It will be difficult for you, too. I understand that. It doesn’t make my suffering cheaper, Hajime.” Nagito was surprised that Hajime actually did fall silent at his words. 

“You’re right. Yeah. Thank you, Nagito.” He took a breath. “Alright, um, I should pull myself together a bit here. Jeez.” He straightened up and then stood, still looking a little ruffled. He stopped suddenly, shoulders twitching a little. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.” Nagito hummed back, moving to sit cross legged on the floor. 

“Do you remember when you told me you weren’t scared of dying? Has that changed?” His gaze was intense. He was staring straight into Nagito’s head, like he could just reach out and take his brain in his hands and see through him. Nagito swallowed. Hajime’s flood was coming and he was throwing down mental sand bags, hiding no matter how useless the attempt. 

“No.” The lie came quick, fast. Maybe because it was half true. Maybe because it was easier to say. Or because it was a lie for Hajime’s sake, not his own. Hajime’s shoulder drifted down peacefully, he sighed. 

“That’s, erm, good. Yeah. Good. I-I don’t want you to be scared.” His tone was one that was common to Nagito.  _ Ah, he’s so wonderful. Trying to find any semblance of hope in this situation. What a great man.  _ Nagito nodded.  _ Am I really scared? I never took myself as someone who would be. _ Nagito finally stood up. 

“You’re kind, Hajime. Oh, I have something to discuss with you.” Nagito walked to his briefcase by his coat, pulling a folder from it and setting it on the coffee table. A plain black folder. “Funeral preparations.” 

Hajime made a strangled noise.  _ Well I suppose we do have to talk about it, but… God. This is gonna be hard. Isn’t it hard for him, too? Picking out this stuff for himself?  _ Hajime nodded, sitting back down on the couch and waiting for Nagito to join him.

“Hm. Obviously  _ I _ can’t be the funeral director, but I’ve contacted a friend of mine from when I got my degree. He’s offered a discounted price, which I thought would be beneficial, considering by that point, my money will be yours-”

“Please don’t take price into consideration. Oh my God. Okay. Just… Do whatever you want with it. Don’t worry about me.”

Nagito gave him a funny glance. An amused sort of condescending look. “Funerals are not for the deceased, Hajime. They exist to make the family feel as though the life mattered.” He took a breath. “But I have… compiled everything you should know. I doubt Junko is going to revive the business. She’ll probably hire someone else, so this is the accumulated knowledge of it all. What will be left of it.” He blinked at the folder. Hajime touched it lightly. “I hope you don’t mind, I would like the color green-”

“Yeah, we’ll do green everything. Like  _ everything _ . Um-” Hajime stopped when Nagito cut him off with a laugh. He kissed Hajime, whose mind was running wild in the volatility of his emotions. From sad to fine to sad to happy and everything in between. “I… What’s funny?”

“Hm.” Was Nagito’s only response

* * *

 

Another week passed and Nagito’s condition seemed more stable. Despite that, every time he coughed or complained of a headache, Hajime felt himself go on edge. He remembered Nagito talking about how exhausting it was to live every day facing death so immediately, and it was true. The worrying and the fear was keeping Hajime awake at night. His mind kept drifting away from him, towards the darker corners of his reality as they became the center focus. He didn’t know how Nagito had lived an entire life of it. 

Nagito’s fourth doctor appointment had taken a long time. There was an issue with one of his x-rays. Eventually, they were told they could leave and the hospital would call when they figured it out. It was around lunch and they’d started to get hungry, they were eating lunch out; Hajime had decided not to press the idea of Nagito learning to cook too much.  _ It might just remind him how arbitrary learning a new skill is for him, at this point. Well… Is it arbitrary? It could mean something.  _

“Hajime?” Nagito’s voice startled him from his thoughts. He blinked. “Do you want to go for a walk later?” 

“Uh, sure, yeah. That’d be fun.” He nodded. “Is there a particular reason you want to um, go for a walk?” 

“Ah, nothing specific. I just haven’t been outside as much lately.” He paused. “For my health.”

“Oh shit yeah, can you handle it?”

“No worries.” Nagito just said simply. They paid and ended up at a nature path, stopping on the way home to pick up Scruffy. “He walks a lot for a chihuahua.” 

“Yeah. Gundham says he’s, um,  _ energetic _ .” Hajime offered a weak explanation, attaching his leash and letting the small dog jump out of the car. They walked along the trail for a while, enjoying the sights and outdoors. It started raining slightly, just drizzling. “Oh, we should go home-”

“Let’s stay a bit more.” Nagito had never been much of a live-in-the-moment kind of person, but he found himself wanting to dwell on moments more and more. The woods were beautiful. 

“Okay.” Hajime sent a wary glance at the clouds and then stood still, watching Nagito’s rake over every leaf and tree individually, like he was trying to memorize them. 

He was, in fact, trying to memorize them. The petrichor in the air, the rough feel of the bark. They weren’t things he had much time left. They were so pretty. Nagito likes pretty things.  _ Something in the air is off; wrong. I wonder what it is. It’s probably my luck. It’s been good lately, I need to watch out.  _ He took a breath and held it, feeling a lap of wind strike his face and trying to absorb it. He could feel Hajime’s eyes on him, studying him. Nagito didn’t like to think he was needy like that, but attention felt good when it was so silent. So unassuming and without any expectations. He turned to look at Hajime and the breath he’d been holding fell out in a quiet gasp. “ _ Hajime _ -” he hissed urgently. “ _ There is…”  _ He started, but Hajime turned around slowly, silently. 

A coyote was standing on the path behind him, yellow eyes watching carefully. Its head was lowered and front legs braced. Hajime scooped up Scruffy, taking a step back. Scruffy saw the coyote and started growling, scrambling to jump down from Hajime’s arms. Full blown panic seared through him as Scruffy escaped his arms. The coyote snapped its jaws loudly and Scruffy froze, whimpered. He bolted from the clearing and down the path.  _ Shit! _ Instinctively, Hajime hurled himself after the dog. Before Nagito, Scruffy had been his only true companion.  _ Oh God what if the coyote follows us? Or goes after Nagito? Do coyotes even do that?  _ Hajime’s mind was running as fast as he was. He heard something behind, pounding and he ran faster, following the rattling of Scruffy’s leash through the dead leaves. 

When he finally caught sight of Scruffy, he sighed in relief, taking a leap towards him. He was about to grab him, when something grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back. He landed with a harsh  _ thud  _ on the forest floor, in pile of mud. He ignored the pain in back a moment to scramble backwards,  _ what the fuck was that? _ Hr backed right into Nagito’s legs. Nagito knelt down quickly. “I’m sorry, Hajime, I didn’t mean to knock you over.” He mumbled, looking disdainfully at the mud. 

“Why did you-” Hajime started, a little annoyed, but Nagito just pointed at the ground. He leaned forward to move the leaves a bit with his hands to reveal a gap in the trail just before Scruffy, jagged rocks and branches emerging from it like tendrils.  _ I would’ve been fucking impaled, Jesus. _ Hajime stared in shock. “How did you even see that?!” He asked, taking the hand Nagito offered him to get up. 

“I saw Scruffy jump over it when I was coming after you. The coyote left.” He hopped over the gap to offer a gentle hand to Scruffy, who sniffed it and then licked him. Nagito smiled lightly. 

“Thank you, um, wow.” Hajime was still in shock from his near death experience, knees shaking slightly. 

“You’ve saved my life enough times now, I might as well return the favor.” Despite the mild tone, there was a hint of amusement in Nagito’s words. His face suddenly clouded. “We should get home before something else happens.” He looked around, eyes dark and knowing. Hajime felt a shiver run down his spine.

“What do you mean by that?” 

“A coyote crossing your path is a bad omen.” Nagito’s face was pale. A raindrop fell from the sky, the drizzle growing stronger. “See?” He timed his question with a clap of thunder.

“Alright, yeah let’s go.” Hajime had a bad feeling. He picked up Scruffy and held a hand out to Nagito to help him over the gap. He noticed he was out of breath when he got close to him.  _ The walk was probably too much for him with all this excitement. I should’ve listened to my gut. _ He thought as they walked back to the car. 

“I didn’t realize how much mud was on the ground.” Nagito frowned at Hajime, who looked down. His legs and hands were covered in mud and dirt and he grumbled a response. _ My poor car. _ He sighed as he handed Scruffy to Nagito and started driving them home. It was a fast drive, but he noticed Nagito clutching at his chest slightly. Nagito noticed his looking and shrugged it off. “I haven’t run in a long time. I don’t know if I’m supposed to or not.” He laughed. When they got home, Hajime immediately headed upstairs to shower. He stripped down and turned the water on, wrapping a towel around himself while he waited for it to heat up. Nagito poked his head in the door. 

“Hajime?” He called.

“What’s up?” Hajime 

“I had a nice day, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I had a good time, too.” Hajime tested the water again. It was warm enough. Nagito looked away.  _ Is there something serious going on; why is he in here? _

“When you’re done…” Nagito frowned, took a breath and hesitated. “Could we talk?”

“Y-yeah, of course. Um, did something happen?”

Nagito’s eyes flickered. His hand on the side of the door seemed especially thin and pale. He offered a smile to Hajime. “No. Nothing of consequence. I just… I am worried about the omen from earlier. Talking with you is calming.” His face was open and honest. Hajime felt his heart shake in his chest.

“I’ll shower fast. See you soon.” He smiled back at Nagito, who started to close the door.

“See you soon, Hajime.” He responded and suddenly Hajime was alone again. He felt the water again and dropped his towel, getting in and scrubbing the mud from his arms and legs. He watched it swirl down the drain and he nudged the dredges of it with his toe, a small frown forming. Somewhere in the house, he heard the phone ring. He could hear a door open and then close and the ringing ceased. Nagito had gotten it. He sighed in relief. 

Hajime pumped out some soap and shampoo, rubbing the latter into his hair and closing his eyes to rinse it out when he was done. The water was nice. Warm and inviting. Hajime leaned into it, letting the warmth blanket his shoulder and back. He waited a few seconds, just listening to the water and feeling the tile beneath him. His eyes opened and darted to the tub where him and Nagito had sat that one time. It had been a stressful conversation, but it had been good seeing Nagito honest. The more Nagito came out of his shell, the more Hajime realized his coldness and his mean streak were good things. They stung from time to time, but they were an indicator of his comfort. A sign that he didn’t spend hours calculating and trying to understand their every interaction. Hajime had never thought they would reach that point. And yet they had, despite all odds. That seemed to be true for everything in their relationship: it happened despite all odds. A siren wailing in the outside traffic broke Hajime from his thoughts and he groaned. He stepped out of the shower and dried off, before throwing some sweatpants and a sweatshirt on. It wasn’t like he was going to go anywhere, so he might as well get comfortable. He ran the towel through his hair one last time, frowning at the rebellious little piece that seemed to always stand up. The siren was louder, giving him a headache.  _ Nagito always gets headaches, he must be hating this.  _ Hajime thought idly and started into the hall, yawning.

It wasn’t until he reached the top of the stairs that he realized the sirens hadn’t stopped. He froze, terrible thoughts laughing viciously in his head. His eyes went wide, turning to the window to see the ambulance and police cars pull down  _ his _ street. “Fuck.” He managed, bounding down the stairs.  _ Would Nagito have called 911 if there was an emergency? He didn’t last time. But who else would’ve called? Is it another neighbor? Wouldn’t he have told me first?!  _ Hajime almost tripped on the last stair, skidding to a halt when he saw the scene laid out before him. 

Nagito was collapsed on the floor, body limp and eyes closed. The phone was still on the line, someone calling from it desperately from where it lay next to Nagito. Hajime didn’t pick up. He knelt over Nagito. “Nagito, wake up! Please wake up,  _ please-”  _ There was pounding on the door. Hajime didn’t hear it at first, shaking Nagito’s shoulders lightly until he turned him over to lie on his back. A small line of wine red blood was dried around the corners of his mouth.  _ How long was he here? Jesus, oh God. I can’t do this. Please wake up _ . The pounding came back and Hajime finally managed the will to stand up, walking towards the door. He repeatedly looked backwards, staring in horror.  _ I was only in the shower fifteen minutes at the most, there’s no way he was there that long, right? Right?  _ His hands shook as he turned the doorknob, forcing him to try the lock twice. 

EMTs were standing in the doorway. “We received a call from your physician five minutes ago. Is everything alright?” 

Hajime’s only response was a small noise and a step backward. They seemed to understand and moved past him, towards Nagito’s still form. Hajime felt his blood run somehow even colder when he saw him, again. They checked his vitals quickly and loaded him onto a stretcher. Hajime followed numbly, stumbling over the doorstep as he stepped out into the rain. Lightning clapped louded somewhere in the distance, followed by the metallic clang of the stretcher being shoved into the ambulance. He got into it, sitting alongside Nagito, watching them stick things to his chest. Before he’d met Nagito, Hajime had never been in an ambulance. And now, he’d ridden one twice in a matter of months. 

They arrived at the hospital shortly and Hajime was escorted to a waiting room, despite his protests. He caught sight of Nagito’s stretcher pushing past a curtain into a room and he clenched his fists nervously.  _ This isn’t the end. This can’t be the end. He was fine earlier. Completely normal -well, as normal as he gets.  _ Hajime’s hands were digging into the sides of the waiting room chair, scratching the bright plasticy fabric.  _ He was right about the coyote.  _ He tapped his foot nervously, stress emanating from him like a plague. He kept glancing at the hall to the emergency rooms, like if he stared at it long enough, John Quinones would walk through the door and reveal it was all just a prank show. It wasn’t likely, but Nagito was lucky wasn’t he? He waited for an hour, stress eating at him until he felt he was going insane. He stood up and walked around, trying to get some of the energy out. He glanced in the gift shop. There was a joke card on a rack that read, “I’m not bored -you’re boring.”  _ Well at least Nagito is the opposite of boring, that’s for sure. _ A green decorative plate was sitting a shelf near the cards.  _ It’s the same color as his eyes. _ Hajime took a step back, took a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I really am going crazy.” He mumbled and turned to leave. “And now I’m talking to myself, too.” He sighed.  _ What’s going to happen to me if all I can think about is him?  _

Hajime wandered back to the waiting room and took a different chair. He glanced around the room at the others there. Normal, everyday people. Some looked bored, others looked stressed, like him. Most looked tired. An older man was rocking slightly in his seat, the newspaper in his hands shaking as much as him. His eyes were wide and almost fearful. Hajime wondered if he looked like as much of a mess as him. He probably did. Another thirty minutes passed before his name was called and he stood up too quickly, going dizzy for a moment as he strode over to the nurse. “Nagito is in stable condition, he’s been moved to a different room. If you follow me, I’ll lead you there. There are some things his doctor needs to discuss with you.” She waited patiently for Hajime to mumble a response and follow her, fear tearing his heart to shreds with every step.  _ If he’s in stable condition, he’s gotta be somewhat okay, right?  _ “Here.” The nurse gestured to a room with its door open. Hajime thanked her and ducked inside.

His legs almost collapsed beneath him when he saw Nagito, face pale and unconscious on the hospital pillow. “Nagito?” He called, nervously.  _ He’s still out? _

“Mr. Hinata, I’m Dr. Naegi, Nagito’s doctor.” A man was standing in the room, but Hajime didn’t notice until he spoke. “Take a seat, there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“O-okay.” Hajime sat down in the chair next to Nagito. He saw his chest rise and fall just slightly and felt a little relief flow through him. Dr. Naegi laced his hands together.

“We need to keep Nagito here, so he can be monitored and kept under constant care. We think it’s the best option for him. We can set up a guest cot for you, of course.” He looked to Hajime.

“Is he okay? Is he worse?” The questions were dumb, he knew, but he needed answers. “When can he come home?”

“He’s alright as of now. Unfortunately, it does seem that his condition has worsened.” Dr. Naegi took a breath of air, eyes suddenly downcast. “Nagito will most likely remain here until our staff and you decide he is ready to move into hospice.”

“ _ Hospice?! _ ” Hajime’s voice spiked and he almost stood up in the chair. Dr. Naegi apologized, watching Nagito’s expressionless face as he spoke. 

“That leads us to the next thing we need to discuss. Mikan told me she informed you a bit of Nagito’s tumor situation?”

“I- that they’re weird or something, yeah, but-”

“Nagito is showing signs of an extremely rare form of lymphoma. There have only been 112 cases in the world. His tumor pattern and rapidly increasing symptoms aren’t typical. We think it may be what’s causing the frontotemporal dementia, too. Although, I’ve known Nagito for many, many years and I have to say that I don’t think any normal form of a disease would suit him.” He twirled his pen, fidgeting a little. Hajime scratched the knee of his sweatpants, eyes trained on Nagito. “That’s both good and bad news. The bad news is that because it’s so rare, there is not a lot of research about the subject. Most treatments would be experimental at best. But the good news is that some cases are completely curable.”

“How many?” Hajime sat up, leaning forward. Dr. Naegi hesitated, like he hadn’t expected Hajime to ask. Like he was holding back the answer. 

“0.009 percent.” He finally looked back at Hajime, eyes sad and comforting. Hajime let out a small, strangled noise. 

“That’s… That’s-”

“One out of the 112 others.” Dr. Naegi finished for him. “I want… I want you to be prepared to know the odds are low. We’ll inform Nagito when he wakes up. It may take a few hours. Until then, sit tight. He’s being monitored and cared for. He’s okay right now.” Dr. Naegi nodded respectfully and started to leave. He made it to the door before Hajime stopped him.

“How… How did you know to call 911?”

“I called Nagito to tell him what we’d found on his x-ray and CAT scan. I’ve been his doctor since he was diagnosed, so I wanted to be the one to break it to him. Or at least call him in. He started coughing on the phone and I heard him drop it.” Dr. Naegi looked out the window, a strange look in his eyes. “I’ll be back when he wakes up.” He said finally and left, white coat billowing behind him. Hajime stared at Nagito. He wasn’t even sure what the emotions cycling through him were. He just knew they were too much. His hands found their way to the bed and gripped Nagito’s hand firmly. He leaned onto the hospital bed, clutching at the sheets until he was scared they would rip. He felt a single tear roll down his cheek and then more and more until he was a crying mess for what felt like the millionth time that week. He wiped his eyes, hiccuping and felt Nagito’s hand squeeze his. He froze and looked down.

“Nagito?” He called desperately, but he was out cold.  _ I probably imagined it.  _ He took a shaky breath, trying to pull himself together. He smoothed back Nagito’s hair that had fallen into his face and dug around for his phone. He picked it up and dialled Gundham’s number, retyping it three times because of his shaky hands. It rang a few times before Gundham picked up. “Gundham? Where are you?”

“With Souda and Peko. It’s what the children call ‘lunch.’” He mumbled something to Souda in the background that sounded suspiciously like, “Don’t steal my food.”

“I-I’m really sorry to ask, but Nagito’s in the hospital again, I was just wondering if, um, you could… Grab Scruffy. Or make sure he has food, I’m sorry-”

“Hajime!!” Souda gasped into the phone suddenly. “We’ll be right on it! We just gotta wait ‘till school’s over. Don’t worry about a thing!” Souda’s voice was expressive as ever and Hajime sighed in relief. It was nice hearing them. He thanked them profusely and hung up. He turned back to Nagito. Watching, waiting. The time dragged on, but he couldn’t make himself leave or even look away. With the end so close, every minute seemed precious. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he’d heard countless pairs of feet outside the room and medical jargon he didn’t understand. Mikan came in to say hello and check on Nagito, but Hajime couldn’t remember anything he’d said to her. 

Mikan later told Hajime it took about three hours until Nagito woke up, but she could have said three days or three minutes and it would’ve felt the same. Hajime’s eyes were half closed, almost burning from watching the white hospital bed for so long. Nagito’s head had tilted just slightly to the side and Hajime felt himself jump from his chair and lean over him. Nagito’s mouth open and then closed, like he was tasting something. His eyes opened so slowly they barely did. His pupils were small, not overly dilated like usual when he saw Hajime. He raised one of his hands and connected it to Hajime’s, silent and gentle. Hajime smiled, gripping the hand and pressing the other to Nagito’s cheek.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mmmm fine.” He mumbled. “They gave me medication. I can’t feel a thing.” His words were a little slurred, but barely. He grimaced. “Mouth tastes bad, though.”

Hajime hastily filled a plastic cup with water from the table and handed it to him. “Here.” He offered. Nagito drank it graciously. Mikan suddenly burst into the room. 

“You’re awake!” She gasped and started flitting around the bed, adjusting buttons and taking measurements of different vitals and stats. Nagito just stayed still, obedient and mild as ever. He seemed almost bored as she pushed another IV into his arm, watching the needle break his skin with a heavy gaze. Dr. Naegi entered the room, an excited look on his face. 

“It’s a good sign you’re up this soon.” He smiled gently and moved closer to the bed. His face fell and he gestured to Mikan, who nodded hurriedly and ushered Hajime out of the room with her. 

“I’m very sorry, but… with this sort of thing, we usually like to u-um… let them hear the news on their own, first.” She squeaked, fidgeting a little. Hajime nodded. He understood. Mikan was called to another room and he was on his own. He watched Nagito through the little glass slot in the door. His face was neutral, mild and unconcerned. The change in it didn’t happen fast or suddenly. It was a gradual descent into darkness, his expression faltering at the final step. He’d just found out. His eyes went dark and unreadable, a haggard look suddenly cutting across his face. Nagito took a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When they reopened, they were light and watery, but still as unreadable as before. The brief moment of panic had turned back into his original blank look. He just nodded along with what Dr. Naegi was telling him, but Hajime could see he’d checked out already. Nagito was gone; the figure in the bed was just a shell of the man Hajime cared about. Dr. Naegi said a quick goodbye and left the room, smiling sadly at Hajime as he went. 

Hajime pushed through the door and sat back by the bed. There was silence for a second. “Hey, um-”

“I’m alright, Hajime.”

“A-Are you-”

“Yes.” Nagito’s eyes were wide. His hands gripped the blankets weakly. Hajime offered his hand and Nagito gripped it. His gaze flickered and suddenly landed on Hajime. “Hajime, I’m going to be selfish for a moment.”

“I’m sure it’s not selfish.” Hajime countered.

“I lied to you. I did change my mind.” Nagito looked out the window, seeming to be unable to maintain eye contact. Hajime started to ask for clarification, confusion as clear on his face as the worry. “I’m scared to die.” Nagito finally sighed, his weak grip growing strong for just a moment. There was silence. Hajime was struggling, searching for an answer amongst a sea of words and coming up empty. A decision came to him.  _ Nagito was right. If you can’t create your own words, borrow them. _

“‘Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of an outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep- no more. And by sleep to say we end the heartache and thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to-’”

“‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.’” Nagito finished with a small grin despite everything. He turned from the window and stared at Hajime. “Hamlet. You’re giving me a suicide soliloquy?” He sounded almost amused. Hajime took a breath.

“I’m trying to tell you not to be afraid. You used to think of death as a respite and it’s okay to do that, now.”

“Hm.” Nagito hummed. There was another stint of quietness. “You’re right in some ways. It will be nice to rest for once.” He almost laughed, a pained sound that struck Hajime.

“‘It’s a far, far better rest I go to than I have ever known.’” He turned back to books. His security blanket, his refuge. “That’s, uh, Dickens.  _ Tale of Two Cities. _ Right before he gets, um, beheaded… I’m gonna stop talking.” Hajime put a hand to his forehead. Nagito damn near snickered and turned away. There was a knock at the door. 

Nagito didn’t make any attempt to move, but Hajime straightened up. Souda and Gundham burst into the room, wearing matching t-shirts with little cartoon robots on them. They approached the bed and waved. “How are ya’ doin’?” Souda asked Nagito, tilting his head a little. 

“I’m splendid!” Nagito smiled back. 

“Awesome!” Souda smiled. Gundham and Hajime exchanged glances. Gundham leaned against the wall near Hajime, crossing his arms.

“How long have you been here?”

“Oh, God, I dunno, uhhh…” Hajime glanced at the clock, trying to do the math in his head. “Four to five hours at the most.”

“Sorry we’re late, there was a meet for robotics and I totally forgot! Angie made shirts for the team!” He pointed to their matching shirts. Gundham frowned. 

“Let’s go for a walk, Hajime. You need to rest yourself.” He pulled Hajime with him despite his best protests. He nodded to Souda before he left. Souda scratched his neck and laughed when Nagito and him were alone.

“Haha, sorry. Hajime can turn into kind of a worry wart, y’know? We thought it might be good for you guys to get some time apart to like, help with whatever.” Souda laughed again, a nervous undertone making itself apparent. “Um, but I think you’re good for him, too.” 

“Really?” Nagito’s eyes flicked up and he licked his lips, a sudden hope spreading across his face. Souda shrugged. 

“Yeah. I think this’ll work itself out, too.” Souda nodded.  _ Maybe he doesn’t know I really am dying.  _

“Maybe.” Nagito just agreed emptily. Souda frowned and stared out the window at the cars passing by in the street. 

“I think you guys are just kinda like a circuit, y’know?” 

“A circuit?”

“Yeah! Trust me, I teach physics  _ and _ engineering. I’m basically, like, an expert.” Souda crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. Nagito nodded seriously and it seemed to spur him on even more. “Okay, like you’re a battery. So for a circuit, you’ve got a wire that’s connected to a battery and there’s a current running through it, but if there’s nothing else on the circuit, it short circuits and explodes and everything. To stop that, you put something on there to make the current chill out a bit, like a light bulb. Hajime’s your light bulb. And all of this,” Souda gestured around the hospital room. “This is just another resistor. So it’s slowing you down right now but it’s helping you out, too.”

Nagito raised an eyebrow. Mechanical engineering had never really been a passion for him by any means, but Souda’s words were resonating with him, anyway. “Helping us?”

“Oh, jeez, sorry was that mean? ‘Cause you’re sick? I just meant ‘cause Hajime has seemed a lot happier since you guys got together. He used to be kinda mopey. And I’d make him go with me to bars to get girls and he’d get all weird and stuff but since you and him started he’s been laughing and talking about more than books.” 

“I-I didn’t know that… Thank you.” Nagito mumbled.  _ Bittersweet. Everything is bittersweet, isn’t it? I can help him and then I have to leave him.  _

“Uh, no problem.” Souda sat down. His eyes went wide and he pointed out the window. “Did you just see that car?!” He almost jumped.

“Ah, no.”

“It was so cool!” He straightened up, watching it leave with an excited stare. Nagito smiled.  _ Other people are so amusing _ . 

* * *

 

Gundham and Hajime eventually returned and everyone said their goodbyes. Gundham promised to pick up Scruffy and Hajime had grabbed some of his own clothes and toiletries while Souda was with Nagito. They were alone again and for the first time in a long while, the quiet was unnerving in an impersonal sort of way. 

Since there was no one else who needed the second bed in the oncology ward, Hajime was allowed to use the spare bed in place of a guest cot. He changed into pajamas in the bathroom and crawled under the stiff, bleached sheets. He crossed his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Nurses were talking quietly outside and he could hear the steady beeping of one of Nagito’s machines. He fell into an uneasy sleep, tossing and turning until a voice woke him. “Hajime?” He blinked. “Hajime?” The voice repeated and he turned on his side. Nagito was watching him from the other bed, arms curled around his spare pillow. “Are you asleep?” He asked and Hajime shook his head. There was another thirty seconds of silence and Hajime’s eyelids threatened to send him to sleep again. 

“Souda said I’m good for you?” It almost came out like a question, hesitant and lilting, tipping up at the end.

“Mm. You are.” Hajime nodded, voice slurred from fatigue. Nagito clutched the pillow tighter to himself. “I’ve told you that.” He raised an eyebrow and Nagito nodded solemnly.

“You’re very good for me.” Nagito looked down at the pillow he was clutching. Hajime realized what he was trying to say. He rolled the blankets down and stepped from the bed. Hajime felt the cool hospital tile under his feet only for a few minutes before he crawled in next to Nagito, who tossed the pillow aside and clutched Hajime’s body, instead. They fell into an easy sleep. Maybe it was fatigue or stress or the comfort of being with each other, but neither of them felt any unrest at all as they drifted to sleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *THIS IS NOT IMPORTANT FOR THE STORY AND YOU CAN SKIP IF YOU WANT TO*  
> Most likely the next chapter or the one after will be the final chapter of Unbreakable Flight, so I wanted to say a quick thank you to all of you who read, commented, and responded thus far. I hate to sound needy and self-pitying, but I wanted to share a little with all of you. About a year ago, I sustained an injury that resulted in me having surgery and being in a wheelchair for some time. It was difficult for me to get out because of my health and I couldn't return to school because I was too weak, so I started to get very bored and lonely. I spent a lot of time thinking and getting lost in my head, which wasn't always the best thing. Someone very close to me passed away from a disease similar to Nagito's and I found myself thinking of them often and revisiting a lot of feelings I was unable to deal with at the time of their death, five years ago. I started writing this story as a way to deal with those feelings and fight the boredom. I never expected anyone to really read it or comment and the fact that so many of you have written such kind words has truly given me more light in my life than I can express with words.   
> So thank you for sticking with this mess of a journey and for reading my tedious and often overly lengthy writing. You're all wonderful people and it means the world to me to know that my story has brought some enjoyment to others. <3


	7. A Formidable Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This will be the final chapter, so be prepared! As I was writing, I realized this chapter has some themes that are a little darker and more emotional than some of the others, so this is just a warning to everyone. Thank you so much for reading!

It was a little embarrassing the next morning being scolded by Mikan after having to crawl back off of Nagito’s hospital bed. However, Nagito seemed in decidedly better spirits and Hajime came to the conclusion that a little embarrassment was fine. “Would you like to do a crossword with me?” Nagito asked with an ambivalent nod towards the newspaper sitting on his hospital desk. Hajime shrugged. 

“Sure.” He picked it up. “Uh, five letters, means ‘brooding bachelor’ oh that’s Darcy.” Hajime scribbled the letters in. They continued down the puzzle until Mikan brought Nagito his breakfast and checked on him. Nagito didn’t eat much, mostly just pushed food around with a bored expression. 

“Hajime, I miss my books.” He sighed after Mikan had removed the tray. 

“Which ones?”

“All of them.” Nagito frowned. Hajime raised an eyebrow. “But of course, it’s impossible for me to get them. Unless of course -Mikan!” He called out to her as she was leaving. She popped back into the room. “Can I leave?”

“No! I mean, please don’t! You’re not in good health right now.” She waved her arms around desperately. Nagito took a deep breath.

“What a shame.”

“If you want me to grab your books just tell me that.” 

“I would never be so demanding and forward!” Nagito feigned ignorance. Hajime sighed and stood up. 

“Is he okay here?” He turned to Mikan.  _ I don’t trust Nagito’s gauge of health. At all.  _ Mikan thought for a moment and then nodded. He kissed Nagito’s forehead. “Stay safe.”

“No one’s going to rob me in a hospital of all places-”

“I mean, like, your health.”

“Oh.” Nagito laughed.  _ It’s a pretty sound. Sometimes I forget he’s sick when he laughs like that. _ Hajime waved a goodbye and walked down the ramp to the bus stop. A couple was crying outside the pediatric oncology ward, shoulders shaking with each sob. Hajime flinched. It was too real. He blinked and continued walking to the bus stop. He felt around his pocket for his wallet and swore.  _ Ah shit, I left in such a hurry yesterday that I didn’t even bring my wallet. Gundham paid for my dinner so I didn’t even notice. _ He shoved his hands in his pockets, drew his sweatshirt tighter around himself and started walking in the direction of home. It wasn’t too bad of a walk, but still longer than he would’ve liked with Nagito alone in his hospital room.  _ Although it is a relief having someone monitor him. Having machines that knows how his heart beats and charts to make sure he eats. It’s easier _ . 

By the time he reached his house, he was tired and a little annoyed with having to walk. The lack of Scruffy didn’t do any favors, either. Hajime grabbed his keys and wallet and shoved some of Nagito’s things into a bag for him and grabbed a few changes of clothes for himself, too. He made himself a sandwich and ate it quickly. Hajime glanced at Nagito’s house as he got in his car. It felt like it had been so many years since that first time he’d seen Nagito enter it, smile bright and hair messy as ever. He took a breath and then got in the car, blinking a few times to get rid of the stinging in his eyes as he started it. Hajime returned to the hospital and gave Nagito his things. Nagito thanked him profusely as he pulled books from his bag. “I have enough experience here to tell you that boredom kills faster than cancer.” He sighed and Hajime laughed but he wasn’t sure it was a joke.

“Dr. Naegi has something important to discuss with both of you as soon as he’s available. He’s coming in tonight.” Mikan suddenly dropped by and Nagito waved cheerfully. 

“Ah, hopefully I’m not somehow worse! What terrible news that would be!” Nagito laughed lightly. Hajime took a step back, almost offended by the lightheartedness. Nagito’s eyes flickered to him. “Hm?”

“You’re so blithe.” Hajime frowned. “Don’t you  _ want _ good news?”

“Of course, Hajime. I’m human. But it’s easier to prepare for the worst, isn’t it?” Nagito picked at the book in his lap. “Kokichi has alerted me that Junko made it known she wanted to visit-”

“I’ll actually throw her out the window.” Hajime grumbled.  _ Bitch. _ His mind cut in, agreeing. Nagito gasped and sat up, reaching for the crossword puzzle from earlier. 

“ _ Defenestrate _ ! That’s 21 down.” He muttered as he filled it in. Hajime burst out laughing.  _ Of course. Of course it is. _ Nagito joined in as he set down the pen and paper again.

“But there’s no need to worry. Kokichi has warned her against it. It will be just you, me, and him in this room.”

“And Gundham and Souda.”

“We almost have a whole party.” Nagito snickered. Hajime grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours seemed to go by agonizingly slow in the hospital. They watched TV and read and talked, but the hours still drew on like an infinite supply of time. And Hajime was so grateful he almost felt elated.  _ For once time goes slowly with him. Thank God. We need this time. _ A crappy drama was playing quietly on the TV. Nagito was watching with an almost disdainful expression. “I can turn it off, you know.” Hajime reached for the remote. Nagito stopped him.

“No, it’s rather interesting.” Nagito shook his head. Hajime just raised an eyebrow and sat back in his seat. Nagito rubbed his chest through the hospital gown, eyes closing. “I was on TV once.”

“No shit, really? When?” Hajime put down his book. Nagito smiled.

“I was in a McDonalds that got held up. They interviewed me about it. It was terribly awkward.” Nagito’s hand moved to his leg, scratching the top of his knee like there was some unseen bug there. “His gun jammed before the police could come.” He laughed a little.

“I’m surprised I never saw it. I watch the news a lot.”

“It was years ago.” Nagito shook his head. He took a sharp breath. 

“Are you okay?” Hajime straightened up. Nagito nodded dismissively.

“Completely fine, no need to worry-”

“Jesus, you’re burning up!” Hajime gasped, pressing a hand to Nagito’s forehead. His hand was damp when he took it away. “And you’re sweating bullets. What’s wrong?”

“Really nothing! I feel fine!” Nagito tried to assure him, back away from the hand. His breath caught again, ruining his point. Hajime shot him a glance. Eyebrows furrowed and mouth drawn in a nervous line.

“If you’re not doing well, we should get Mikan. You’re in a hospital, it’s not a burden.” Hajime started to reach slowly for the nurse call button. Nagito didn’t seem to notice.

“Mm, I’m fine. Just need water.” Nagito drank some of his water, not breaking eye contact with Hajime like he was daring him to press the button. He put the cup down and coughed, clutching at his chest. Hajime pressed the button, the click seeming especially loud. Nagito looked betrayed.  _ Well what else was I supposed to do? Trust him to let himself get hurt? _

“H-hello?” Mikan poked her head in the room. She saw Nagito’s face, suddenly wet with sweat and flushing. She rushed over and checked his vitals. “Tachycardia.” She responded at his look. Nagito scowled.

“I-It’s not a big deal.” He mumbled. Mikan just called for Dr. Naegi. He stepped into the room.

“Ah, I was just on my way here. What’s wrong?” He approached Nagito’s bed. 

“Nothing.”

“His heart.” Mikan said at the same time as Nagito. They exchanged frustrated glances and then both looked back at Dr. Naegi. Nagito was breathing in short, rapid breaths, still rubbing at his chest like he had a bruise. Dr. Naegi frowned and listened with his stethoscope for a moment, frown deepening. 

“Nagito-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Nagito’s eyes went wide and the breaths went silent. Dr. Naegi blinked and then sprung into action, sending Mikan to fetch something. “Can you not breathe?” He asked and Nagito nodded, a pale hand clawing at his throat. Hajime took a step towards the bed, grabbing the side rail.  _ What can I even do to help him? I need to help him! What am I supposed to do? _

More doctors rushed into the room and surrounded Nagito until Hajime could barely see him. He didn’t dare push past them for fear of disrupting whatever they were doing to him. “He shouldn’t be worsening this fast.” One of them mumbled. 

“Let’s get him to op-”

“No! He’s too weak. We’ll do what we can and go from there.” Dr. Naegi shook his head. Mikan noticed Hajime still standing behind the doctors and her eyes went wide. She pulled him out of the room. 

“Mikan-”

“He’ll be okay. The best thing you can do for him is sit here right now.” She put her hands on his shoulders with a serious gaze. He stammered a response and nodded. He sat in the chair outside the room and waited. And waited. Suddenly time slowing down was a terrible thing again. 

An hour passed with no word and Hajime was starting to feel like he was going to go insane. His nails were digging into the chair under him and every doctor that passed elicited a sharp gasp or sudden questions. None of them seemed to have the answers he was looking for. As he was coming to his wit’s end, a voice above him brought him back to reality.

“Hajime, you look great.” Kokichi was smirking, leaning against the wall next to him. “New skincare routine or something?” He tilted his head at Hajime’s dark rimmed eyes and worry-etched face. Hajime scowled. 

“Not the time, Kokichi.”

“Alright, sorry.” Kokichi sighed and typed something on his phone before turning back to Hajime. “You made a good choice, by the way.”

“What?”

“In Nagito. He was a good pick.” Kokichi’s face was neutral for once. There was just enough carefully concealed stress poking out the sides for it to not be relaxed, but his usual lopsided smirk and maliciously playful expressions were gone. “I used to think he was crazy. And I was right. He is. But he’s got a good heart deep down in there.” Kokichi inspected his nails. Suddenly his usual self was back and he snorted. “Bet he’s wild in bed, too.”

“That’s… That’s really inappropriate.” Hajime grumbled. His patience was razor thin and Kokichi was like a forty ton weight being dropped on it. Kokichi just laughed amicably in response.  _ I do think he was trying to be genuine for once in his life, though. I really do.  _ Kokichi suddenly straightened up, glancing behind Hajime. He turned around to see Dr. Naegi, hands in his coat pockets and face serious. “Is he alright?”

“He’s in stable condition. We’re asking that he doesn’t have any visitors for the next hour or so until he regains consciousness. I know it’s tough, and I apologize, but it’s what’s best for him.” Dr. Naegi dropped a look back in the room, eyes downcast. “You’ll also be wanting to contact his lawyer.”

“What a coincidence.” Kokichi mumbled under his breath to Hajime. He shook Dr. Naegi’s hand. “Kokichi Ouma, nice to meet you.” 

“Why does he need a lawyer?” Hajime cut in.

“Well, a couple reasons. Primarily, to give him advice about signing off on experimental treatments. Secondly… Well, frankly, Nagito’s a medical oddity. Receiving permission to use his medical history and run tests on him would be a new world for researchers studying lymphoma. He would also have to donate his body to science, but it would essentially mean that he’d be able to change the medical world in his own way.” Dr. Naegi finally met Hajime’s eyes. A silent understanding passed between them and Hajime was fairly sure Kokichi had picked up on it, too. He gripped the chair.

“He’d…” Hajime trailed off.  _ It’s exactly what he wanted. To live on after his death. To make a difference in the world and make  _ something _ about his life unique. Changing the future of research on lymphoma is no small task, but if there’s anyone whose death could change the world, it’s Nagito. He’ll be happy. _ While Hajime had to face the ever impending and looming notion of Nagito’s death, joy was sweeping over him in such large amounts that he didn’t even notice.  _ As long as he gets what he wanted from this life. _

Sometime when Hajime had been thinking, Dr. Naegi had been called to another patient. Kokichi watched him with a bored expression for a moment. “If we can’t go in for an hour, take a walk with me.” He offered. Hajime just nodded and stood up. Kokichi led him out of the hospital and into the courtyard, to an area that wasn’t visible to where a few doctors were mulling about a table, enjoying their lunch break. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. Hajime blinked. 

“You shouldn’t smoke. That’s bad for you.” He said almost on instinct. It was part of his well-rehearsed speech for every time he caught kids vaping in the school bathroom. Kokichi laughed, high and amused. 

“I’ve never smoked in my life.” He flashed a grin. Hajime noticed the carton was half empty. He still wasn’t sure whether the nonsensical lies were all part of a joke or a coping mechanism or what. He wasn’t even sure if he cared enough to want to find out. He had enough crazy on his plate. 

“How did you and the Komaeda family meet, anyway?” Hajime asked, sinking into a nearby bench. Kokichi took a drag of his cigarette and sighed. He frowned and glanced over at the doctors, again. Like he was afraid of eavesdroppers.  _ What could possibly be so secretive about this? _ Hajime grumbled in his head. 

“I was in a bad spot in law school. Shit’s not cheap, y’know? I don’t have any parents, same as Nagito. But unfortunately, I didn’t also get the whole inheritance thing. I…  _ may _ have dabbled in some activities I shouldn’t have. But everyone’s human, jeez. I was still top in my class, though. I think people started catching on, though, ‘cause they’d send administrators down my back or shove PIs down my throat. But, I mean, I’m a lawyer for God’s sake. I’m not dumb enough to leave a trail behind or do something I can’t lie my way out of.” Kokichi huffed indignantly. “So obviously no one ever caught me. But, er, there was one private investigator who was very…  _ convincing _ . Yeah, let’s say that. Emo dork. But, er, potentially a little good looking-”

“So you did get caught?”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Doesn’t matter. Lost my scholarship either way. Nagito and I went to the same university. His family has a scholarship that they offer. I applied. He thought the story was, ‘hopeful’ or something and I was able to finish law school. And then of course I was inducted into the mafia. That’s how I pay for my student loans now.” Kokichi yawned. 

“So how much of that story was real?”

“Ouch. You’re calling me a liar? That stings, Hajime.” Kokichi snickered and flicked his cigarette at the floor, putting it out with his shoe. “I don’t even need to ask you, ‘cause I had to hear it forty five fucking billion times from Nagito.” He rolled his eyes. “You should’ve heard him. It was pretty sad.” Kokichi looked up the side of the building to where Nagito’s window would be. 

* * *

 

Turns out despite Kokichi’s annoying tendencies, he was somehow also a comfort for the rest of the hour while they waited to be allowed to see Nagito, again. When Hajime finally tracked down Mikan and got permission to enter the room, Kokichi said a quick goodbye. “I’ll talk to the researchers. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He ducked out of the room, waving to Nagito as he left. Nagito’s eyes drifted up to meet Hajime’s. They were red and rimmed with dark lines of fatigue. But he smiled cheerfully.

“I apologize Hajime, that must have been quite a shock-”

“Don’t apologize. Are you okay?” Hajime leaned forward and took his hand. Nagito nodded. He looked away,  _ the truth is becoming overbearing. My time is running out. _ Nagito ran a hand through his hair, trying to silence and dispel his own thoughts so he could focus. 

“Did you have a nice time with Kokichi?”

“Er, yeah. Surprisingly I did.” Hajime nodded. “He talked about how you guys met, a little bit.”

“Mm. Which story did he tell? The one where he saved my life in France? Or the cartel story?” Nagito questioned. 

“Er, that he got in trouble with the law and lost his scholarship but he applied for your family’s.”

“Haha, I haven’t heard that one in a while.” Nagito laughed, the sound pleasant and warm in the cold sterility of the room. Hajime grinned.  _ I should’ve known I wouldn’t get any honesty out of Kokichi. _ “Dr. Naegi told me there’s something I’m supposed to talk about with you.” Nagito’s eyes flitted to the door, like he was expecting someone to come in. He turned back to Hajime, who hesitated. As if on cue, Kokichi and Dr. Naegi stepped through the door, right where Nagito had been looking. 

“He can probably explain it better than me.” Hajime nodded to Dr. Naegi.

“Some researchers have contacted us and they want to use your medical records and run some tests on you.”

“Why?” Nagito frowned, picking at the blanket over his legs. 

“They want to use it for development on treatment for lymphoma. It’s likely that you’d change the face of lymphoma. The last I spoke with them, they were close to a major breakthrough, and if you act as that tipping point…” Dr. Naegi took a breath. “It’s a difficult decision but you could help a lot of people, Nagito. Your name would appear in medical journals and textbooks. It’s a wonderful thing, really.” 

Nagito was just staring blankly at Dr. Naegi, eyes clouded. Dr. Naegi noticed and seemed to falter a bit. “Erm, you’d have to donate your body postmortem, but er, you’re a donor, anyway. And also-” He kept talking but Nagito clearly wasn’t listening. He was still quiet, but a thin hand reached out to grip Hajime’s wrist with a strength he wouldn’t have expected. Clear eyes gazed up at him, watery and excited. 

“Where do I have to sign?” Nagito looked around the room, as if they would magically appear in front of him. Dr. Naegi shook his head.

“It will take a few days to get the paperwork ready, but your lawyer here should be able to help you with that. I’ll leave the three of you alone, then, and make that call. I can tell you they’ll be overjoyed to hear you agreed.” Dr. Naegi smiled at Nagito as he left. He was only out of the room a second or so before Nagito broke down. 

“ _ Hajime _ !” He gasped. “This is… This is everything.” He blinked back tears. They were tears of joy for the first time in a long while. Hajime smiled.  _ At least one good thing can come of all this.  _ Kokichi went through his legally required spiel with Nagito and they chatted.  _ It’s good to feel normal again.  _ Hajime thought to himself.  _ This whole thing started because neither of us wanted to be normal and look at us now. _ Kokichi stuck around for dinner, which surprised Hajime a little. Nagito seemed happy with the company, though, so he didn’t push it. Nagito was in a genuinely good mood and something about it was ebullient and effervescent enough to put Hajime in a good mood, too. Even Kokichi’s usual insults were slowing down to minor comments. 

“What do you think you’re going to see when you die?” Kokichi asked out of the blue over his hospital-sanctioned food. He’d just pushed it around his plate, creating a mess. Hajime sent him a warning glare but Kokichi seemed immune and Nagito was somehow not offended. 

“Hm. I hope it’s exciting. I read something about it once.” Nagito shrugged, seeming indifferent.  

“What was that?” Hajime asked, sliding his ham sandwich onto Nagito’s plate in exchange for his cookie. They didn’t hardly give Nagito enough food.  _ Well… I mean… They’re doctors, but, like… He barely eats. Wait… I’m just being overprotective, aren’t I? Dammit. _ Nagito refused to ever take Hajime’s food without it being some sort of trade so they’d settled on Hajime taking his desserts. It wasn’t like Nagito ever ate them, anyway. He wasn’t much of a sweets person. 

“I read you see your biggest hardship. So you can come to terms with it, I suppose. I’m not entirely sure. I think the ‘life flashing before your eyes’ idea is more reasonable.” 

“So like what? Your worst enemy?” Kokichi narrowed his eyes. Nagito just shrugged again. “Think you’re going to Heaven or Hell?” Kokichi pressed further. Hajime took a breath.

“We can save the philosophy for another time.” He cut the topic off. He was not getting Nagito on any rants or destruction. “Does anyone want coffee?” He stood up. Kokichi explained some complicated drink without hesitating, but Nagito shook his head.

“I can’t have caffeine right now.” He explained. Hajime just nodded and left for the hospital coffee stand. He got out the door and halfway down the hall when he realized his distraction had been terrible.  _ Who the fuck buys coffee at seven pm?! Why did I leave him alone with Kokichi of all people?! He’s probably just going to remind him of his ever-looming death until Nagito reverts back to his shell and it will be terrible. But it’ll look even worse if I come back with bo coffee. Shit.  _

* * *

 

Meanwhile in the hospital room, Kokichi had an unexpected  _ lack _ of questions about morality. He was talking about a case he was working on, purple eyes unfocused and staring somewhere distantly in the window. “Yeah this psycho engineer infringed on one of my client’s patents for a bug catching machine.”

“Bug catching machine?” Nagito raised an eyebrow. Kokichi knew he liked stories about other people. Nagito refused to think he told the stories just for him, though.  _ That would be rather selfish.  _

“Yep. He’s an  _ entomologist _ . More like gross-ologist. Who would want to study  _ bugs?! _ Gross.” Kokichi sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. 

“Maybe the bugs bring him hope.”

“Maybe.” Kokichi seemed unconvinced. He picked up their crossword and stared at it. “Your boy toy’s interesting.” His eyes snapped back into focus.

“Hm? Hajime?”

“Yeah. He likes you a lot, y’know?” Kokichi watched Nagito as he spoke.  _ He told me once that he memorizes people’s expressions. I doubt he’d put that much work into me, though. Well… I suppose Hajime has. Hm.  _ “Are you happy?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Kokichi took a breath and looked around the room. “You have everything you want, now. You have someone who loves you. You’re dying. You have this research thing. This is a pretty good time for you despite everything, isn’t it?” Kokichi leaned forward, eyes boring into Nagito’s soul. Nagito blinked, a hand fluttering to his mouth. Kokichi watched for a semblance of recognition and when he didn’t see one, leaned back again. “Just kidding! That’d be a pretty fucked up thing to say, huh?” He laughed and then yawned, usual spark and cheer back in his tone. Nagito just stared back at him.  _ It’s terrifying when someone can see right through you. Truly horrifying. _ Kokichi gave him a knowing look. 

“I-I’m grateful, Kokichi.” He mumbled, running a hand over his forearm. Kokichi looked back at him.

“Good.” He leaned backwards and stared at the ceiling of the room. Hajime walked in with three cups and a strange expression. 

“I, uh, I just got you some juice. Erm, ‘cause you said no caffeine.” Hajime handed a plastic cup to Nagito and a plain coffee to Kokichi. If he noticed it wasn’t remotely close to what he’d ordered, he didn’t say anything. Kokichi said his goodbyes and left. Hajime hadn’t realized it was already dark outside. Something in the air was different and Hajime could feel it. He was nervous. As he went to sit down, Hajime’s leg bumped the side of the hospital bed roughly. When the shock of pain subsided, he stared at it with wide eyes.  _ Shit that’s embarrassing. Not only am I a nervous wreck, but now I’m knocking shit over? _ “Shit, I’m sorry Nagito. That probably like, knocked out an IV or something.” He scratched the back of his neck, but Nagito just snorted.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to worry about me?”

“When you’re not sick.” The words came out harsher than Hajime had meant for them to. He faltered. He wasn’t sure if Nagito would take offense in that or not. He seemed to fluctuate in his sensitivity. 

“That’s not exactly in my realm of control.” Nagito said in a quiet, flat voice.  _ He’s mad. _

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Hajime looked away. Nagito was quiet. 

“I know.” He said after a pause. “But you do know I’m not getting better, right? There won’t be a time when you’ll stop worrying.” Nagito’s face was dark, to match the light outside. His expression was unreadable and Hajime’s brain was grasping at straws trying to understand what he was trying to do by reminding them. 

“I’m… aware.” Hajime frowned. He took a sip of coffee. Nagito watched him idly for a moment, and for the second time since they’d met, his eyes stared through Hajime. He wasn’t looking  _ into _ . He didn’t care about understanding in that moment. He didn’t care about either of them. Hajime was never sure what tripped these indifferent and aloof episodes in Nagito, but they scared him. 

“You’re aware of what? That you sitting with me here means nothing? When I’m dead do you really think another ten minutes will have done either of us any good, Hajime?” His questions were slow, but they felt fast, pelting past Hajime as he got more and more lost in Nagito’s words. Hajime hesitated, stammered.  _ What? What the fuck? _

“I-I… Y-yeah, I do, okay? Why’re you so pissed off all the sudden? Just calm down for one fucking second.” Hajime’s words were once again much harsher than he meant for them to be. He was hurt and being backed into a corner. Nagito regarded him with a look as blank as a slate. 

“Actually, I somewhat feel that  _ I’m _ the calm one in this situation. Or are you shouting to convince me of your stability?” He raised an eyebrow.  _ What did I do? We can never catch a break, I swear to God. Every time I think we’re fine, something has to go wrong. I’m going to go crazy.  _

“I’m _ not _ shouting!” Except now he was. He lowered his voice, for fear of Mikan kicking him out. “God, Nagito. You said it yourself that you don’t have much time left, can we please just let it be good? It’s no difficult to understand. I know you’re smart.” His voice was tired. Nagito wondered how long he’d been tired. Sometimes he felt like Hajime had been tired since the first night he’d slept over. Maybe he had been. Maybe it was all Nagito’s fault. 

“Have you ever thought that it might be difficult for me to understand? Because I thought we’d made that point clear.” Nagito’s voice was icy.  _ You always do this. You always ruin everything. Destroy him so he destroys you and you can complete your vicious little cycle. Trash.  _

“I-Do you want to fight right now? Are you  _ trying _ to get me mad? I don’t even know how I’m supposed to talk to you.” He rubbed his eyes and leaned away from Nagito, sighing in defeat and frustration. Nagito’s eyes drifted past him to the road outside, watching the pedestrians flit by, consumed by their own lives. They were so unaware. So  _ safe _ . He watched a young man with a small child leave the hospital doors. Maybe a father or a brother. It was comforting to watch their lives, instead. The young man picked up the child and as he did, she dropped her little plastic toy bird. It hit the ground and even from his seat a few stories away, Nagito could see its head pop off and roll across the pavement. She started crying and screaming. The young man tried to comfort her, but Nagito stopped watching. He took a breath, feeling every individual molecule of air enter his body, suddenly so much more aware of the blood pumping through his veins and the fluid in his lungs and the pain in his heart, because he  _ knew.  _ With sudden, utmost clarity, Nagito  _ realized _ the truth. He fell back on to the hospital bed and took another, shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry Hajime. I think the medications getting to me. I didn’t mean to start a fight.” Nagito lied, hand twisting into his sheets under the blanket where Hajime couldn’t see. Hajime looked back up at him, surprise clear on his face.

“No! I mean,  _ I _ should be sorry. I started it. I didn’t even think about that.” Hajime gripped the hand closest to him and rubbed one of his warm thumbs over the cold skin of Nagito’s wrist. It felt too cold, like a corpse’s. Nagito put a hand on Hajime’s cheek, letting their eyes meet so abruptly and with such intensity that Hajime almost looked away.

“No matter whatever happens, I’ll always love you, Hajime. You’ve made an indescribable impact on my life.” He said without a pause, like they were words he’d rehearsed. They had, in fact, been rehearsed, but never meant to leave the prison of his mouth. They were words he’d thought to himself every night as they fell asleep. Words he’d repeated silently every time Hajime wasn’t watching him. Hajime’s grip on him tightened. 

“I-I love you, too, Nagito. We’ll… We’ll get through this. It’ll all be okay.” Hajime nodded quickly, moving his chair closer to Nagito’s bed. Nagito gave him a small smile.  _ One of us will get through this. I hope you know that even if I’d had a choice in the matter of who would survive, I would have chosen you. _ Nagito didn’t let that unspoken truth cross his lips. Nor did he dare utter his newfound knowledge.  _ The world works in terrible patterns but they are not mysterious. I know how this night will end.  _ “Hey, um, we should get some sleep. I talked to Dr. Naegi and he said that because the paperwork is taking a bit, the researchers will accept a verbal contract with Kokichi there and they can start tomorrow morning. Bright and early.” He fidgeted in his chair. 

“Ah, that’s wonderful.” Nagito hummed cheerfully.  _ Absolutely splendid. _ Hajime crawled into his own bed and turned, facing Nagito. 

“Hey Nagito?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you remember those donuts from the first time we met?” Hajime asked, eyes clear. Nagito nodded. “The ones you won because you were the thousandth customer?”

“How did you-”

“I was at the coffee shop that morning. I watched you win them.” Hajime shuffled in his bed slightly, pushing his pillow a bit. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I was so pissed that day because that dumbass kid in my class called me boring, but something about you caught me off guard. Something about you was  _ different _ .” Hajime laughed a little. “Y’know… With most people that sparkle starts to kind of get dull. Months go by and real life hits and then they’re human again. I’ve been waiting, Nagito. I’ve been waiting every day for you to become human and you never have. Something about you is just too special to be mundane.” 

Nagito squeaked a small noise, a pale hand fluttering to his mouth. He felt a wetness and a sting in his eyes, but he blinked it away.  _ He’s so damn cute _ Hajime found himself thinking.

“Goodnight Nagito. Sleep tight.” Hajime smiled with an amused expression.

“Goodnight, Hajime. I’ll see you in the morning.” Nagito watched Hajime drift into sleep slowly. When his breathing was even and quiet, Nagito finally looked away. He stared at the cup of juice Hajime had brought him. Cranberry. It was blood red, swirling around the cup just like real blood. The date on the cup said April 27th. Nagito blinked in surprise.  _ Tomorrow’s my birthday.  _ He almost laughed at the irony.  _ How hilariously stupid. I know how this ends. I know what happens.  _

Nagito had never thought of himself as someone who was very intelligent, but maybe he was. He had been right, after all. April 27th, the day before his twenty-seventh birthday, at approximately 11:59 pm, Nagito Komaeda’s heart stopped. 

* * *

 

Hajime didn’t remember falling asleep, he just remembered saying goodnight to Nagito and then waking up, lights bearing down on him and voices all around the room. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and looked around groggily.  _ What kind of terrible dream is this? _ He almost groaned, finally getting a good look at the sight before him. Dr. Naegi and his colleagues were crowded around Nagito and suddenly Hajime was  _ very  _ awake. He leapt from his bed and tried to get closer. 

“Shock advised.” He heard a voice say.

“Clear!” They all took a step back besides Dr. Naegi, who was holding two defibrillators paddles to Nagito’s chest. Nagito’s back arched from the bed, but his limbs stayed slack and his face was blank. Hajime choked on air and tried to claw his way towards Nagito’s still body. 

“ _ What’s going on? What the fuck happened?! _ ” He cried as a doctor grabbed him from behind to stop him from touching the charge on accident. Dr. Naegi’s eyes gave away his panic as he handed the paddles to another doctor and stepped over to Hajime. 

“Hajime,  _ Hajime _ !” He shook Hajime a little, as he tried to push past him. “Please listen to me! His heart stopped a few seconds ago. We were in here immediately, chances are, he’ll be okay. Just… Wait out-”

“No. I’m staying in here.” Hajime didn’t believe Dr. Naegi. The panicked look on his face and the shakiness in his voice was too much for Hajime. Too much proof of the opposite. Dr. Naegi just nodded curtly and returned to the other doctors. Hajime’s eyes fixated on Nagito. Something about this time was different. He could feel it in his bones.  _ I would give anything to know what’s in his mind right now. Is he even thinking right now? Is he even still alive in there? _ Hajime felt pure ice climb through every vein in his body and he bit back tears. 

“Dr. Naegi, with all due respect, we  _ need _ to do surgery. He will die without it.” A doctor breathed, but Hajime heard him like he was standing an inch away. Dr. Naegi flinched. 

“He’s… He’s too weak. Surgery will kill him.”

“He’s dying right now.” The doctor bit back and Dr. Naegi’s eyes darted to Hajime across the room. “He will be brain dead in a matter of minutes, give me the scalpel, we’re going in.” The doctor’s voice was louder, rushed. Dr. Naegi closed his eyes for just a moment and then took a step towards the hospital bed. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll need suction and two foerster clamps. Let’s go,  _ let’s go _ .” 

* * *

 

Blackness. 

Darkness.

A neverending void of oblivion. 

There was nothing in front of him and nothing behind him. There was no breeze or white noise, just his old friend silence. Nagito didn’t remember falling asleep. He remembered laying back in the hospital bed and feeling a sudden pain in his heart. A pain that spread to his lungs and his arms and up through his brain, like he was on fire. Like the world was melting away around him, acid dripping from every crevice. He heard the monitor flatline. He was in too much pain to breathe, anyway. He hadn’t even noticed the choking. And then there was darkness. Black surrounded him on every side. He looked down, almost surprised to see his own body. He wasn’t wearing his hospital gown, anymore. He was wearing his usual jeans and sneakers. He pinched his arm, but didn’t feel it.  _ Is this a dream? _

“Am I dead?” He realized, asking the silence. He heard his own voice. He heard it echoe endlessly in an unnerving infinitum. 

“Technically speaking.” A voice behind him made him jump. The voice was breathy, boyish. He knew it well. He turned around quickly. Sure enough, Nagito Komaeda was staring back at him, pale eyes cold and calculating. His arms were cross and his face set in a scowl. Nagito felt a laugh bubble up in himself until it boiled over and out from his throat. He clutched at his chest.

“Kokichi was right! You really do get to face your worst enemy before you die.” Nagito staggered a step towards the other Nagito. 

“Shame you’ll never get the chance to tell him.” He replied. 

“Ah, but it’s a shame for you, too, isn’t it? When this is over, you’ll be as gone as I am.” Nagito raised an eyebrow. It was Other Nagito’s turn to laugh. 

“Do you really think I care? I have no care, no  _ love _ for this life. Do you know how exhausting it is to be dragged around by  _ you _ for your whole life? It’s terrible! Horrendous!” He spat. “This is the only chance I ever get. My one shot at revenge.”

“Revenge?” Nagito’s tone was still mild. He wasn’t scared. 

“You talked down to me, you  _ abused _ me, you even let others abuse me. I had to sit there and do nothing while you destroyed the both of us so that you could try and feel something with that cold little piece of cement in between your ribs.  _ I _ had to feel every time you let someone hit you, every time you dragged that bloody razor over yourself, every time you stepped into traffic or off a building. You are  _ cruel _ , Nagito Komaeda. You’re a despicable, horrible creature that made me suffer for twenty seven years.”

“You only suffered because you’re at my level. If you’d been any better do you really think I would have hurt myself so much?” Nagito’s voice was cold, again. He stared at the other Nagito with a disdainful look. 

“I do, actually. Take a look at your life, Nagito. Was blaming me truly necessary? Throwing away my dignity and right to respect in search of some nonexistent hope? I know better than anyone how smart you are. There are so many things you could have done in place of this. So many things that would have never hurt me… Or hurt  _ him _ .” Something slashed at Nagito’s chest and he felt the burning pain ignite in his chest. He cried out and fell to his knees in front of the Other Nagito, breathless and weak. Something was ripping him at his seams, pulling away his skin like it was wrapping paper. He looked down. There was no carnage or blood, just his regular t-shirt. “Do you feel that?” The Other Nagito’s voice was indifferent and uncaring. He looked down at Nagito with a bored expression. “You’re supposed to like this, aren’t you?” He watched as another sudden pain ripped through Nagito, tearing him to shreds. “How long do you really think you’ll last like this?”

“I-I don’t understand.” Nagito wrapped his arms around his chest, trying to contain the pain and standing up, almost tripping. “Is this supposed to be hell? Shouldn’t it be more interesting? If this is hell, it’s sort of a let down.” He frowned.

Other Nagito laughed again. “Hell? Don’t be delusional. I’m Charon and this,” He gestured wildly with his hands. “This is just like the river Styx. I’m nothing more than your transportation to whatever scrap of Hell you end up in.” Other Nagito seemed so amused. For once, Nagito didn’t have to wonder what was funny. Even if he hated himself, he was still the only person who could truly understand himself. 

“Metaphorically, I’m assuming.”

“Well obviously.” Other Nagito yawned. Something tore another shred from the flesh on Nagito’s ribs and he fell back to the floor. Other Nagito nudged him with his foot, but he didn’t bother to react. He couldn’t. Not with the pain swarming through him like angry hornets. “So how does it feel to be dead? Is it as fun as you thought?”

“You’re even terrible at mocking me.” Nagito bit back, frustration seeping through him as fast as the pain. Other Nagito just sighed, watching another flash of pain hit Nagito. That was rebuttal enough. “It’s terribly unlucky, don’t you think?” Nagito decided standing wasn’t going to work and he settled on the floor, doing his best to ignore the pain. “To discover that even the thing you thought would be a respite is just more pain and suffering?”

“Would you have still tried killing yourself all those times if you’d known?”

They stared at each other. Though they may have been enemies, there was still a certain degree of trust. They  _ were _ the same person after all. “Probably.” Nagito finally decided on an answer. “Isn’t my life supposed to flash before eyes by now? Or am I foolish for believing in such a myth?” 

“I’m waiting, Nagito. You’d think with spending a life waiting to die, you would’ve developed some semblance of patience.” Other Nagito sighed in response. He glanced upward, like there was something there. He looked back at Nagito. “Watch this.” He mumbled and suddenly more pain coursed through him. This time, he could feel it directly in his lungs. He remembered reading a book about torture once when he was younger. He’d read about a torture technique where a starved rat was stuck to someone’s stomach and it was crawl through their insides and chest until it got to the outside, ripping them to shreds. That was how he felt.  _ Torture, _ he decided,  _ is much more fun to read about rather than be a participant in. The pain is not the worst that I can imagine but it is frustrating. I want to think clearly. I want this pain to mean something, at least. It was a punishment, before. Or a marker of me leaving something behind. Now my life is over, so what does the pain mean? What’s the point to it all? _ As he was thinking, he felt something warm hit his hand. He looked down. Red. Blood. Everywhere. 

“Ah!” He was almost startled as the blood started to pour from his mouth. His green jacket was drenched, turning almost black with it. He was hemorrhaging so violently that it was starting to resemble the Shining. He stared back up at Other Nagito, hoping for some explanation.  _ My death shouldn’t have involved this much blood. I expected asphyxiation or brain deterioration or heart failure, not… What happened to me? I can’t remember. _ The fact that he couldn’t remember was starting to bother Nagito, make him feel nervous. He scrambled around the floor for any sort of foothold, but all there was was oblivion. Other Nagito snapped his fingers and suddenly the nothingness turned into a scene Nagito recognized all too well. 

His parents death. He turned away and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he was burying his dog in the backyard. He was in high school, eating alone at lunch. Nagito coughed up more blood, watching it spill over the cafeteria table, seemingly invisible to everyone else. He stood up, gripping the table for support, but it disappeared beneath his hands. Nagito was standing in a dorm room. He saw himself drunk on his first boyfriend’s bed, laughing until he wasn’t. When he blinked, he was watching himself inspect his black eye with a bored expression in the mirror the next morning. College went by in a breeze. He’d spent most of that time alone. And then suddenly he was at a party, drink in hand and polite, ever-confusing chatter surrounding him. “Oh my God, I know who you are! You’re that crazy kid from my philosophy class!” Someone laughed. He was confused. Upset. Nagito turned around.

There was just darkness behind him. He took a step away from it and turned back to the party, only to find himself in Hajime’s home. He breathed a sigh of relief. They were asleep together on the floor, Hajime draped over Nagito like a blanket. It wasn’t until a clap of lightning made his ears ring that he realized  _ when _ he was. He watched himself wake up and kiss Hajime. He saw the terrified look on Hajime’s face, the almost instant pull away. “You should go.” Hajime mumbled. 

“Yeah.” He heard himself say and left without another word. He walked to his own home and closed the door behind himself. He sank to the ground with the realization he’d  _ ruined _ any chance he’d ever had at being close to Hajime. He’d become something perverse and terrifying. 

Nagito tried to approach himself, explain that Hajime would forget the incident, but the moment he touched his own shoulder, he was arguing with Hajime. Snapping at him with an icy meanness he sometimes forgot he held. Hajime looked taken aback. Scared. He still regretted that fight. Their first fight. Hajime had been so kind and then Nagito trampled over him because he’d been cornered. Because he’d been too scared to face himself.  _ Hah. Such a pity.  _ He watched himself sulk and pout for those two months. Watched as he cried himself to sleep like a child because he was ashamed of his own stupendous ability to absolutely ruin everything. 

A different hospital room surrounded him, but it took him a moment to realize what it was. He could see mountains out the window. As he watched a needle the length of his own arm piece his back, he felt something sharp stab through his front. He doubled over, gasping and crying out pitifully. Like there was anyone there who could hear him. “I’d like to speak privately with him for a moment.” The doctor said with a serious face to Hajime. Nagito could still feel his heart sink despite the pain. Even then, he’d known exactly what it was. “I’m very sorry to inform you so suddenly, Mr. Komaeda, but… it appears that your disease has returned at full strength. When you return home, I would recommend scheduling a visit with your physician.” Nagito knew what those words meant. Tumors were growing. Metastasizing. Malignancy was spreading through his body at an even higher speed than before. 

But as he pushed the hospital room curtain aside, it became something much more solid. A metal door. Wind was blasting at Nagito’s face and he could heard the crunch of gravel beneath his feet. He’d recognize the view anywhere. Hope’s Peak Academy. He took a step back, knowing exactly what he was about to watch himself do. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for Hajime as he reached the roof just a moment too late, grasping wildly at the gravel like it could conjure Nagito to safety. He saw himself catch on the decorative wall piece, fall interrupted by some grace of God. 

And then he watched Hajime fall apart. He watched as he slowly realized Nagito was dying for the next few months. It didn’t matter how many times it was said aloud, Hajime would only believe it when he saw Nagito get weaker with every day that passed.  _ I wonder how much I hurt him by dying like this. By letting him get so close and then slowly removing every piece of myself from him. Is he sad right now? Is he crying? _

Other Nagito seemed to appear from nowhere. “There you go. You asked for a ‘life-before-your-eyes’ experience, didn’t you?”

Nagito waited for the most recent bout of pain to pass and stood up, facing Other Nagito. “No.” His voice was louder than he’d expected it to be and he heard it echoe once again through the darkness. Other Nagito raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s wrong with it? Pray tell.” Other Nagito narrowed his eyes.

“That’s not my life.”

“I’m afraid I have to disagree with you there.” 

“There was more. There was so much more. Hajime was right.” Nagito took another step forward. “I was prepared to face death empty handed! How foolish I was to think that I could fight without a weapon! I was going to walk into this debate with no points to make and then let myself crumble like rock because I thought it’d be interesting. Maybe so. But I’ve already failed at that.” They watched each other for a moment, like two dogs about to fight, sizing each other up. “I’m not facing you empty handed. I have Hajime. I had a  _ life _ . You can strip that away from me,  _ Nagito _ ,” He enunciated the name, pulling out every syllable that he could. “But you can’t erase the fact that I existed. I had hope and I  _ still _ have hope because I am fairly certain that no matter what you try to do to me here or what death truly is, I’ll continue living. It may not be one you ever face, but I still have an army.” Nagito spoke quickly, moving closer to Other Nagito with every word, until he was almost on top of him. Other Nagito was flinching at every raised peak in his voice, eyes going wide and mouth drawing in a tight line. When Nagito reached him, he had shrunk to the floor. He reached out, but a noise interrupted him. 

“Still no pulse!” Someone shrieked. Nagito’s hand fell. 

“Makoto, we need to stop! He’s… He’s dead.”

“No!” That was Dr. Naegi’s voice. Nagito recognized that voice. He blinked up at the darkness above him, where the voices were coming from. 

“ _ NAGITO! _ ” A voice that soothed the pain in his chest like ice tumbled down to him. 

“Hajime?” He called out, reaching around the darkness. Nothing. “ _ Hajime _ ?!” He felt a tear roll down his cheek. He could give up anything,  _ anything  _ to be able to comfort Hajime right then. Nagito looked down. Other Nagito had his arms wrapped around his legs, hiding his face in his knees. He looked up. Nagito didn’t gasp at the change in him, but he felt his breath catch. His right eye was swollen shut from bruising. Blood was drying down the sides of his mouth. Other Nagito stood up. There was a gaping hole in his chest, blood pouring from it like some sort of terrible vacuum. Cuts were littered up his arms, outlined by more bruises. Nagito blinked in realization. His hand floated back up from his side and touched Other Nagito’s cheek -  _ his _ cheek.  _ I did this. Almost every one of these things I did to myself. Is that why he’s so mad with me? Because I’ve hurt him? Is that why I’m so mad with myself? _ Nagito traced his cheekbone, staring into the clouded eyes of the man in front of him. “I’m sorry.” He breathed. 

Other Nagito’s hand drifted up to cover his, a peaceful expression on his face despite the injuries scattered across him. The oblivion disappeared and the world turned a blinding, unending white.

* * *

 

_ There’s still no pulse? What the fuck do they mean there’s still no pulse?! Nagito wake up! WAKE UP! _ Hajime felt every bone and muscle in his body tremble until it ached. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw the damn defibrillator out the window for all the good it was doing. Dr. Naegi was halfway inside Nagito’s chest, forceps grasping desperately at some malignant tumor stuck to the front of Nagito’s left lung.  _ It’s a lost cause. Removing a tumor isn’t going to  _ save _ him like that. He’s had no pulse for too long. He’s probably brain dead.  _ That thought shook Hajime to his very core.  _ There’s a chance the Nagito I’ve come to love is gone now. Gone forever. Never coming back.  _ Hajime’s nose and eyes stung, he felt more tears crawl down his face. 

“Makoto-” A female doctor with long, braided hair put a hand out to stop Dr. Naegi. “It’s time to declare a time of death. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be for his family.” She looked pointedly at Hajime. He didn’t hear most of her words, just saw the room spin and the words “time of death” scream at him from every corner of it. Dr. Naegi stepped away from Nagito, scalpel in hand and expression lost. Nagito had been his patient since he was sixteen. And now he was nothing more than a cadaver for the nurses to move. 

“T-Time of death… 12:07, A-April 28th.” Dr. Naegi stammered. Hajime’s head snapped up.

“No.” He walked over. “No.  _ No _ . He’s not dead! He’s not fucking dead, do you hear me?” Hajime grabbed at Dr. Naegi’s lab coat. Dr. Naegi made no move to push him off, just stared past him to Nagito’s body. Hajime whipped around and felt his throat try to climb its way out of his mouth. Nagito’s chest was cut open, forceps and clamps littered across the medical tables. Ribs and muscles were visible.  _ I always wanted to look inside Nagito metaphorically. To understand him. Observe the way he works. And now here he is, laid out like a dissected frog for me when it’s far too late. _ Hajime took a step forward, accidentally knocking the cranberry juice from earlier to the ground. It splashed across the floor. Nagito had just taken a sip from that a few hours ago. Now he was never going to drink anything ever again. Hajime felt an emotion seep through him that he’d never felt before. A surreal sort of pain so raw and consuming that it was almost numb. Tears stung his eyes and his face grew more and more heated. Hajime looked down at Nagito’s body and realized he’d been wrong earlier, about Nagito being expressionless. A tiny smile was left on his face, now permanent. Hajime reached his hand out, watching it shake visibly. He grabbed Nagito’s hand and felt the coldness of it. He closed his eyes and thought back to earlier, when Nagito’s hands had been just as cold. He’d been alive. Hajime could see him there, in the hospital bed, caught up in some book or puzzle. Pale eyes bright and cheerful, scanning the page. He’d look up,  _ Hajime? _ And smile. It felt so real. He could feel the tile beneath his feet and hear the heart monitor beeping away, like an endless drone. 

Hajime felt a doctor push past him, but he ignored them in anger.  _ How dare they interrupt my fantasy? My only little piece of Nagito left.  _ But another doctor pushed past him and another pulled him away from Nagito and his eyes snapped open, irate. He was about to yell when he heard it. 

_ Beep. _

_ Beep. _

_ Beep. _

Hajime’s mouth fell open and he turned slowly back to the heart monitor. Achingly slow. It was too good to be true. Doctors rushed around the hospital bed, stitching him back up and trying to decrease blood loss. Dr. Naegi warned Hajime that they weren’t out of the woods, yet. “Sustained cerebral hypoxia is very dangerous. He could be in a coma. We won’t know until he wakes up.”  _ Or doesn’t. _

But Nagito did wake up. It took 6 hours and half the oncology staff, but Nagito Komaeda blinked back to life five am on his birthday. Hajime hadn’t left his side once for all of it. He barely blinked, for fear or missing even a single twitch from Nagito. But for six hours there was nothing. And then, just as he felt his body betraying him with fatigue, Nagito’s eyes blinked open, slowly and groggily. “Nagito?” Hajime almost jumped from his seat. Nagito just stared at him a moment, eyes blank and confused. The terrifying realization that Nagito could be (and probably was) severely brain damaged hit Hajime.  _ What if I got all my hopes up and then all he can do is eat out of a tube for the rest of his life? Nagito would never want that. _

“Oh.” Nagito sounded startled. “You’re real.”

Hajime couldn’t respond, he just shook, eyes wide and suddenly brimming with tears.  _ He’s alive, he’s alive. He’s okay. Fuck. Oh my God.  _ Nagito’s eyes darted to somewhere behind Hajime, like he was seeing someone. Hajime turned around. No one was there. 

Nagito, however, blinked in surprise at the pink haired girl standing behind Hajime. He recognized her from the photos in Hajime’s house. Chiaki Nanami. She was fiddling with a DS, fingers flying and face concentrated. She looked up for a moment. “Take care of him for me.” She evaporated into the air and Nagito stared back at Hajime. 

“I-I…” Nagito looked down at his own hands. 

“I love you.” Hajime blurted out and Nagito looked up at him. He smiled slowly. This wasn’t a bad world to return to at all. Not one bit. A handful of doctors rushed in and talked to Nagito, asking him questions and administering more painkillers. Turns out that pain in his chest had been literal open heart surgery, Nagito later found out when he asked about the new scars on his chest. 

Nagito, against all odds, had not sustained brain damage. “Lucky guy.” Dr. Naegi had sounded surprised. Hajime and Nagito had just exchanged glances, because they both  _ knew _ . The researchers came the next day and announced they wanted Nagito to try their experimental treatment. He had nothing to lose so he agreed, with advice from Kokichi. Another few weeks passed. Nagito’s heart continued beating. His strength returned slowly. His vision was having issues at first. He was seeing dark spots and losing focus, but some help from his doctors allowed it to return to normal. He was in a wheelchair at the hospital for a while. His legs were too weak to support him because it took so long for him to be able to keep food down after his surgery, but when he did start walking again, he suddenly wanted to be everywhere and do everything with Hajime. 

He was discharged. Not hospice discharged, regular discharged. He was still weak, so their regular life was a little different, but they were home and together and  _ alive. _

The experimental treatment was working. Slowly, but surely. Nagito was able to eat more, to walk around, to function. Nagito was used as an example across the world for medical conferences. But those weren’t the only changes Hajime had begun noticing in Nagito. His insecurities weren’t defining and defiling him, anymore. It was as if, somehow he’d finally faced them. Nagito was happier, more comfortable, and confident without the usual mean streak that accompanied it. 

Hajime finally returned to work. On Nagito’s first day home alone, he caught sight of the fridge and the months-old lottery ticket stuck to it. “Looks like your luck ran out!” The ticket mocked, but Nagito just laughed. He laughed and laughed to himself in the silent little kitchen, because his luck  _ hadn’t _ run out. He was the luckiest of anyone in the world. 

While his first day back wasn’t  _ stellar _ , Hajime was grateful to be back at school. Gundham, Souda, and Peko brought him a welcome back cake at lunch and many of his students greeted him excitedly. Hiyoko, however, rolled her eyes at his return. “Great.” She muttered sarcastically. “I liked the sub better.”

“Why’s that?” Hajime’s voice gave away his lack of commitment. Hiyoko seemed upset by the fact that her insults were now water off a duck’s back to Hajime.  _ I’ve faced  _ much _ worse than angry fifteen year olds.  _ Hajime thought to himself, taking a sip of his coffee.

“You’re boring.” She sighed and Hajime almost spit it out. 

“Hiyoko, y’know, that’s funny you should say that. Because let me tell you, the last time someone called me boring was the most beautiful goddamn day of my life. So  _ thank you _ , from the bottom of my heart.” He laughed, starting to hand out papers.  _ If only they knew how much had come from their insults. My whole life I’ve wanted to stand out and now I’ve realized the best thing that ever happened to me was being called boring. But I suppose that’s because “boring” came with the fire that is Nagito Komaeda.  _

When Hajime got home that day, Nagito was sitting cross-legged on the couch, Scruffy curled up in his lap next to the book he was reading. A song was playing on the radio somewhere in the house and a summery breeze was just starting to waft through. Hajime took a deep breath.   _ If this is “boring” then I don’t think I’ll ever want anything else. _

A memory from many months ago came back to him suddenly and so clearly he almost felt like he was there for a moment. They’d been in Nagito’s bedroom, packing through his things when they’d thought he was going to die. Nagito had said, “There is a world that exists somewhere where… where we had more time. Where you and I could try and… ‘work through’ our problems. Where we could just be us without… all of this . And I think about that world a lot. I find solace in the idea that there is a version of me somewhere that gets that chance.” Hajime wondered if Nagito ever thought about that, too. If he realized he was that very version of himself that got to live out everything the two of them had ever wanted. Hajime wondered if Nagito thought that he was  _ lucky _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who has stuck through this wild mess to the end. I don't know what to do with my life now that this is over! Ah! this was a very interesting fic for me to write and I hope that it brought some enjoyment to you guys. It means so much to me how many kind and thoughtful comments I received while writing this. I hope that everyone is okay with the story having a happier end than most of you probably expected. I was deciding between two endings and I ended up with the one where they are able to really grow old together and everything because I felt like I'd tortured the poor boys enough! But anyways, thank you guys again. Writing this fic has been an incredible journey for me and has allowed me to overcome a lot of things that I thought I would always struggle with. Every single one of you who read and commented directly contributed to my defeating my grief and that means the world to me. I love you all so much and I hope you have days as wonderful as you <3  
> Also, feel free to send me any questions or whatnot through my tumblr:   
> the/proof/is/in/the/sloth (but without the dashes)


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